


If for any other reason

by saskgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:39:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 59,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6555670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saskgirl/pseuds/saskgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione Granger is a successful barrister in post-war England. Six years have passed since the end of the war. All of J.K. Rowlings' endings are in place except for Hermione and Ron, who never worked out as a couple. Lucius Malfoy has been MIA for six years and is silently trying to amend and atone for his wrong-doings. He has now been charged with using the cruciatus curse on an unknown victim and is in a holding cell when Hermione meets him. Harry is the Auror assigned to the case. Ron is an Auror but not as successful as Harry.  It's a Lumione story but a long, slow build to the relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is primarily about the psychological damage that war can do to people. Lucius and others have been badly affected. If you suffer with PTSD this could be an unsettling or difficult story to read. Please, heed these warnings.

CHAPTER 1

The ‘click click’ of the young witch’s heels could be heard all the way down the corridor. A weathered, brown leather briefcase swung from her right hand. Dressed in a smart, grey Muggle business suit – with a tailored jacket which defined her waist and hips, and a pencil straight skirt which showed off her well-toned physique, she walked with a definite purpose. She always did. The U.K. magical community knew her as a no-nonsense type of woman; beautiful and brilliant, wise and wily, and ferociously devoted to the rights of all magical creatures, human or otherwise. From wizards to hippogriffs, she defended the rights of them all.

  
As she approached the holding cell of her potential new client, the guards stood to attention on either side of the door. Her soft brown hair complemented with light blonde highlights was gathered in a ponytail and hung down to her shoulders. Almond-shaped eyes opened wide, she knew instinctively she didn’t have to introduce herself. There wasn’t a man, woman, or child who didn’t know her name. Her fame notwithstanding, this was about the man inside. A man she hadn’t seen in six years. An infamous individual. Once he was truly feared, but now? His status seemed uncertain.

  
“Good morning, gentlemen. I’m here to see my new client. Please, open the door.”

  
One of the guards smiled, but the other didn’t. He was the one who spoke. “Glad to do so, but would you like one of us present for your safety?”

She knit her brows together and considered the offer, then smiled. “I’m fine. But, thank you for the kind offer. Now, please open the door.”

“Yes, ma’am. But, given who the prisoner is…”

“I heard your offer the first time. Didn’t you hear my answer?”

“Yes ma’am.” He finally opened the door and she walked inside.  
#

Kingsley Shacklebolt, now Minister for Magic since the war ended six years ago sat in his office with Senior Auror, Harry Potter. The two had formed a strong bond and friendship over the years, and the Minister respected Harry like no other. But, today, the two were at odds.

“I just don’t like the idea, Kings. Yes, she’s smart and successful, but he’s…” Harry picked up his mug of tea. The sentence hung in the air for Kingsley to ponder.

“That’s the thing, Harry. We just don’t know. He’s really retreated from the magical world. He’s kept pretty much to himself, hasn’t bothered anyone, hasn’t hurt or cursed anyone, and really just minded his own business. In fact, that’s the only thing we know about him is that he watches over his company, continues to earn billions of galleons, but also donates a ton of money to magical and muggle charities.”

“Yeah, he’s very good at throwing money at people. Always has been.” Harry ran his hand through his already extremely messy hair.

“No, Harry. He’s done it almost secretly. Took years to figure out it was him donating the money. He doesn’t seem to want any recognition, or any notice whatsoever. This whole messy business is extremely out of character.”

“Not for the man I know.”

“Knew,” Kingsley corrected.

“You weren’t there in the Department of Mysteries that night, Kingsley. I was. He stood right in front of me and told me to either give him the prophecy or watch my friends die. Now, what about that doesn’t say monster?”

“But he never used his wand on any of you did he?” In fact, he was hit pretty damn hard by Sirius and that’s all there was for him that night. Really, he’s uttered tons of threats over the years, but honestly, he doesn’t have the stomach to follow through. Never did.”

“Hmmmm. Funny you should say that.”

“Why?”

“Cause the night that Snape had to kill Dumbledore, one of the Death Eaters was taunting Draco. He said something like he was just like his father and didn’t have the stomach to actually kill anyone.”  
#

The young witch walked into the holding cell and finally looked on the man who had personally chosen her as his barrister. She couldn’t fathom it. Why on earth does he want me here? The experience in her put that thought aside. A broad smile swept across her face, and with a bright voice she said; “Good morning, Mr. Malfoy. My firm has received a communique which says you’d like me to represent you in this matter.”

She watched as a very different man from the one she remembered stood up. He moved with a slight limp to his left leg. Blond hair still hung to his shoulders but it was neater and more tailored than before. His physique bore the greatest difference. He was very muscular and obviously in great physical shape. His shoulders appeared broader and he almost seemed taller than she remembered. He was dressed simply, in a white shirt with the first few buttons undone, and folded up to his elbows, along with navy blue dress slacks. The sharpest difference were his eyes. The witch recalled cold, grey eyes, but these were a soft greyish-blue. There was even a warmth to his smile as he stepped forward to shake her hand.

“Good morning, Ms. Granger. Thank you so much for coming. I greatly appreciate you considering my case. Would you like to sit down? I’m sorry I can’t offer you better surroundings.”

“That’s fine. I’ve been in holding cells before. Thank you.” She sat down at the small table and surveyed the cell. It was exactly the same as any other. One small cot with blankets and a pillow, a small side table, a sink, toilet, and a table with two chairs. There were no windows and the door was magically sealed.

The two sat down opposite each other. Lucius poured water from a jug and offered her a glass. “I’m afraid this is all I have to offer.”

“No apologies necessary.” Hermione busied herself with removing folders, paper pad and pen.

“I see you work with a traditional muggle pen,” he noted.

“Yes, I do. Does that bother you? If so, I’ll switch to a quill.”

“Not at all. I use them myself now. They’re far more efficient.”

Hermione nodded but said nothing. “Now then, Mr. Malfoy, as I understand it the charge is that your wand was found in a wooded area, not on your property, and upon inspection it had issued the Cruciatus curse. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“And you maintain that you didn’t do this?”

“Yes.”

“Can you say more?”

“Of course. I’d been in Diagon Alley earlier that day. I don’t go there often but I needed to attend to matters at Gringott’s.”

“Excuse me for interrupting but why don’t you go there?”

“Because people throw things at me, swear at me, and try to curse me. It got to be a bit much.”

Hermione put down her pen and stared at Lucius. She liked to take breaks from her note-taking to ‘read’ her clients. Lucius’ face bore a sadness, a sense of frustration that she’d never seen before. Although she’d only encountered him a few times, she’d always seen arrogance and over-confidence in those eyes.

That was no longer there. These eyes were softer, kinder, and somehow resigned to their fate.

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that. It’s despicable. The war’s been over for some time and people need to move on.”

Lucius shrugged. “I’m accustomed to it. People see me as a monster, and I’m fairly certainly they always will.”

Hermione picked up her pen but remained in eye contact with Lucius. “That makes me sad.”

“Hmmmmm. Me too.”

“So then, please continue.”

“Well, I was walking down the side alley to Gringott’s when I tripped and fell. My foot must have caught on one of the bricks and I hit my head.” Lucius pulled his hair aside to show a deep crimson and purple bruise. “When I came to, there was blood going down the side of my head. I was able to get myself up, and walk to the apparition point. I went straight to St. Mungo’s. They treated me well and sent me home. Once I got home and took off my cloak, I found my wand missing.”

“Wait! Your wand went missing? Why didn’t you report that?”

“I was going to but I was still disoriented from hitting my head and Healer Sebastian advised me to rest immediately with a cold compress on my forehead. So, I followed his advice. One of the elves who works in the manor, JoJo was waking me every hour to make sure I was alright, when he woke me and said the Aurors were there to arrest me. That’s what happened.”

Again, Hermione put down her pen. “I don’t understand. Your wand went missing. JoJo could verify that you’d been in the house the entire time. How can the Aurors have a case?”

Lucius closed his eyes briefly and sighed. When he re-opened them he spoke with a sense of resignation. “The fact is they didn’t believe me. They said that based on my history of lying and manipulating others, I had probably forced JoJo to say those things. They also said that while I was in my room, I certainly could have apparated in and out to the field, uttered the curse, dropped my wand and returned home to the manor.”

Hermione nodded. “I hate to say it, but they may have a point there. But it’s horrible that you’re being treated like this based on your past. People can change. People can learn. This is outrageous. Who was the arresting Auror? It doesn’t say on the report.”

“Harry Potter.”

Hermione sat back in her chair. She pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest briefly and then let them fall onto her lap. “I’m surprised that Harry would be so lax in his report. I don’t understand why he didn’t sign his name to it. That’s not like him.”

“I assure you it was him.”

“Oh, I believe you. The Aurors will have a record of him responding to the crime.”

Lucius’ shoulders sagged and he folded his arms on the table. “Ms. Granger, everyone says you’re the best at what you do. But, if you feel a conflict given your friendship with Auror Potter, I’ll seek out someone else.”

Hermione looked down at her notepad for several moments, then looked up at Lucius. “No. I’ll take your case if you can look me in the eye and tell me with all certainty you didn’t commit this crime.”

Lucius locked eyes with Hermione. He breathed deeply and let out another sigh. “Ms. Granger, I didn’t commit this crime. I have committed others. Goodness knows. But, I didn’t do this.”

Hermione sat silent for several moments before she spoke. “I believe you, Mr. Malfoy. I believe you’re innocent of this crime. I’ll be speaking to Auror Potter about the discrepancy in this report. I also want to know why you weren’t offered an opportunity for bail.”

“I was told that based on my past I didn’t qualify.”

“That’s appalling! People have rights in this community. Your past is in the past and that’s where it belongs. I will speak to the Magistrate in this case and see about bail. Also, I want to know why you were limping earlier when I came in?”

Lucius looked down before he spoke. “An old Quidditch injury.”

“Please, let me take a look.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“If I’m to be your attorney, Mr. Malfoy, I’ll make that determination. Now, let me see your leg!” Hermione quietly slipped out of her chair and moved to Lucius’ side.

He lifted up his pant leg and was unprepared for the sharp gasp uttered by Hermione.

Long, red gashes ran up and down Lucius’ left leg. Clearly, several of them had bled quite recently. “This isn’t an old Quidditch injury! These are torture marks.”

“Why did you lie to me?”

Lucius pulled down his pant leg. “Look, Ms. Granger, I’m in enough trouble as it is. The most famous individual in all of magical England believes me guilty of this crime. If I have to endure a little nonsense from the guards, then I’ll have to be tough enough to deal with it.”

Hermione stood up. “Oh no you won’t. And, I don’t give a damn how famous Harry Potter is. He’s not above the law. No one is. No war hero. No…” She inhaled several deep breaths to calm herself. “Mr. Malfoy, this is completely unwarranted. I won’t have you tortured in here. Do you understand me?” She leaned forward with one arm on the table. Brown eyes met blue. A palpable energy crackled in the air between the former criminal and the feisty barrister.

Lucius nodded in agreement. "Quite ironic since you were tortured in my house.” Lucius stared down at his feet. His hands formed balled fists.

“Mr. Malfoy, I got your letter of apology a long time ago. It was heartfelt. And there was nothing you could do. Bellatrix was insane. She had your family and you didn’t have a wand. What exactly could you have done?”

Lucius looked up, his face a tortured mask of emotional pain. “I don’t know, but I’ve asked myself that question hundreds of times. I only wish I had an answer.”

“It’s over and done with. Let’s move on.”

“Alright then. But, please don’t make too much of a fuss. I can’t…I won’t go to Azkaban again.” He dropped his head. “I barely made it out alive the first time. I c…c…can’t go back there.” Lucius tried desperately to regain his composure.

“You’re not going to Azkaban, not if I can help it.”

Hermione reached over and patted Lucius’ left shoulder. “Now, let’s get that leg taken care of.”  
#

Lucius laid back on the firm pillows behind his head. Healer Sebastian tended to his leg mumbling the entire time about the “horrible state of things in the magical community”.

“Since when did torture become the way of things in the Auror office? This is utterly disgraceful. Shameful. Does Auror Potter know about this?” He placed his hands firmly on his hips and glared at Hermione.

“Oh, he’s going to know alright,” she said. “And, when I’m finished with him there won’t be a place he can hide in this community or anywhere else.” Hermione huffed loudly as she gathered her things. “I believe you’re in good hands, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Yes, and thank you.”

She offered a sincere smile. “You’re most welcome, and now I will tend to Harry Potter who’s got quite a tongue lashing coming his way.” With that she walked out.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I feel sorry for Mr. Potter,” Lucius said in a compassionate tone.

“That is one formidable witch,” Healer Sebastian agreed as he returned his attention to Lucius’ leg.  
#

Hermione strolled into the Auror Office as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Best not to forewarn them of things to come. She found Harry at his desk buried under a pile of folders. Poor guy, she thought for just a moment and then remembered the state of Lucius’ leg. “Hello Harry,” she said as brightly as she could muster.

Harry stared up from under his pile, his hair even messier than usual, his blue eyes agitated and annoyed. “Hey, Hermione. What’s up?” He looked back down as if Hermione wasn’t there.

“Harry, I really need your full attention.” Hermione used her most authoritative voice which was laced with annoyance and confidence. She sat down in the stiff wooden chair opposite him and remained very still.

Harry pursed his lips and gently laid down his pen. He knew Hermione all too well, and crossed his arms over his chest with no attempt to stop her.

“Thank you. First, I’m curious as to why you didn’t sign the arrest form for Lucius Malfoy because you and I both know…”

“Hold up, of course I signed it.” Harry picked up his quill and fiddled with it to keep his hands from balling into fists.

“Well, here it is.” Hermione handed it over for Harry to see for himself.

“Bloody hell,” he said. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter. We had enough to arrest him on.”

“Really? Maybe you did and maybe you didn’t but this is procedural regularity and for that alone I could actually get the case thrown out.”

Harry pushed his chair back and leaned forward on his desk. “What the hell, Hermione! Have you gone bonkers? You know damn well I was the arresting Auror and this is about the Cruciatus curse. So, let’s get on the same page!” His left eye twitched and throbbed. Harry tried to pretend it didn’t.

“I see. You’re going to hide behind that are you? Well, the fact that you didn’t sign the form coupled with the fact that Mr. Malfoy was tortured in his cell should be enough to get the case thrown out.” She stood up and leaned against the desk. Face to face they squared off.

“What? Torture? I don’t allow it.”

“Well, someone didn’t get the memo because his guard, Seran Tomlinson practically slashed his legs to bits.”

“Who says so?”

“I do. And, Healer Sebastian at St. Mungo’s where Lucius is being tended to.”

“You removed one of my prisoners without telling me? How could you go over my head like that? This is disgusting!”

“No, torture is disgusting and…”

“What the hell?” Kingsley stormed in his eyes full of rage. “We can hear you all the way into my office.”

The two began to scream at Kingsley, talking over each other, one insult after another.

“Hermione just stormed in here and…”

“Harry never signed this form and then there’s torture and …”

“I never tortured anyone.”

“I never said you did!”

“Enough!” Kingsley screamed. “What’s going on here? Two friends yelling at the top of their voices? This is unprofessional. Sit down! Both of you!”

They complied as Kingsley regained his composure by pacing about. He quietly closed the door. “This is unacceptable.” He breathed in deeply and blew out air. “One at a time, please. Ms. Granger, please go ahead as I assume this has something to do with Lucius Malfoy.”

“Yes, first, Harry never signed the arrest form which is a procedural error. Second, Lucius has been tortured while a prisoner of this department. I had to call Healer Sebastian on an emergency basis to tend to his wounds. On his authority, Lucius was transferred to St. Mungo’s where he’s being tended to.”

As Harry opened his mouth to speak, Kingsley raised a hand to stop him. “Whom did Lucius say tortured him?”

“One of his guards, Seran Tomlinson.”

“Well, this is a terrible situation. Harry, is it true you didn’t sign the form?”

“I guess I uh I uh must have forgotten to do so. I’ve got so many files and…”

“Harry, I didn’t ask how much work you have. I asked if you forgot to sign the form?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I see. And were you aware of the situation with the guard?”

“No, Hermione just made me aware of it this morning.”

“Hmmmmm.” Kingsley paced about again. Hands on his hips he mumbled incoherently to himself. Something about damn stupidity.

“I’m sorry, Kings…I mean Minister.” Harry’s voice dripped with frustration.

“Okay, I get it. You’ve got a lot of work, but Harry, this could get Lucius’ case thrown out. And, that’s going to make a lot of people angry. If this torture story gets out…crap we’ll be thrown to the wolves by The Daily Prophet, not to mention The Quibbler. After what Luna went through in the war, her father rails over anyone being tortured. ANYONE! DO YOU HEAR ME?”

“Yes, sir, I hear you.” Harry’s voice crumbled.

“Ms. Granger, please deliver our apologies to your client on behalf of the Ministry. I will discuss the matter of dismissing this case with you later on today or tomorrow. And now, I have to tend to the Belgian delegation which will be here any minute. I trust the two of you can act accordingly.” Kingsley stomped out and slammed the door behind him.

#

Lucius reveled in the newspapers, journals and books Hermione had delivered to him just that morning. He silently marveled at the sheer precision of her work. As he did, a pretty, young volunteer stepped into his room.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy. I’m Emily, your volunteer today. I have some tea and biscuits for you, if you’d like.” She offered a toothy smile and flashed her dimples.

“Thank you, Emily, that’s very kind. Would it be alright to put it here on my side table?”

“Of course.” She did so, and smiled again. “How are you feeling today? Is there anything else I can get you?”

“I’m doing better thank you. Healer Sebastian is wonderful, as always. And, this is just fine.”

“Alright then. You know to press the buzzer at the side of your bed if you need anything. I’ll pop in here in a flash!” Another grin and she sidled away from the bed provocatively before she left.

“My goodness,” Lucius said under his breath.

“She’s utterly fuckable,” said a cloaked figure in the corner.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Lucius choked.

“I can get in anywhere,” they said. “And, I can see you really want to fuck her. Of course, that delectable Ms. Granger is hugely fuckable as well.”

“You stay away from her...from them…from me. Go away!” Lucius pulled the covers up to his chin.

“I did you a favor. Now you owe me one.”

“Show yourself. Who are you? And, I never asked…Merlin! You stole my wand!”

The figured cackled and disapparated.

Lucius’ eyes grew wide with fear. His lips trembled and his shoulders shook.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Harry get a peek at the damage of the war to Lucius. Ron makes his first appearance, and all isn't well with him either. Hermione continues to advocate for Lucius, and a stranger appears to threaten Lucius and Hermione.

Hermione sat at a quiet table in one of the new, successful cafes in Diagon Alley – Tea & Tomes. The shop served up dozens of exotic tea blends along with freshly baked pastries, and the latest magical newspapers and magazines from around the world. As such, Hermione felt a sense of calm and delight in the pleasurable environment. She lifted a tea cup to her lips when a familiar voice broke through the peace.

  
“Hey Mione,” Ron said. He strode up to her table and sat down as if he belonged there.

Hermione set down her tea cup and silently reminded herself to remain polite. “Ron, you know I don’t like it when you call me Mione. Please, respect my wishes. We’re not kids at school anymore.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Sure, yeah, no problem, but everyone already knows about your fight with Harry, I mean the whole Auror department is talking about it and then there’s the fact that you’re defending bloody Lucius bloody Malfoy that sick git who almost got us killed and a former Death Eater and a manipulative bastard and…”

“Ron! Stop it!” Hermione admonished him in the quietest tone she could muster. “Please, I’m trying to have some peace and calm in my day. We’ll talk another time.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

“Sheesh! Fine! Damn you’re almost as touchy as you were that night of the Yule Ball when….”

“Go! Now!” Hermione buried her face in one of her favourite journals on criminology, The Investigator.

“Whatever!” Rom plodded off then proceeded to shove his way to the head of the customer line. “Oy, I’m an Auror folks. I need to get going.”

People moved aside because after all he was Harry Potter’s best friend and Harry vanquished Voldemort, and that was the end of it.

Hermione shook her head at yet another one of Ron’s clumsy attempts to continue garnering attention from his status as “war hero” even though basically

everyone was sick and tired of it, even his family.

“Yeah, I’ll have a café latte and a scone with jam to go. Of course, it should be half price because I’m an Auror,” Ron announced in a loud voice.

“Sorry, sir, everyone pays the same price,” the woman behind the counter said in a distressed voice.

“Really? I’ll pay this time but I’ll have to check with my superior, Harry Potter.” He grabbed his coffee and scone then proceeded to lumber out of the café like some rude schoolboy who just couldn’t get enough attention.

Hermione hid even further behind her journal in the hopes of avoiding anyone wanting to ask questions about Ron’s behaviour which was an ongoing subject of gossip among far too many people. She knew Harry ignored it, but wondered how long he was going to be able to do so. Ron served alongside Harry in the Auror office but it was generally accepted knowledge that he only did so because Harry wouldn’t sign up without him. He was always given minor cases with no real impact because Harry, Kingsley, and all the Aurors knew he couldn’t handle much more. He constantly made mistakes on his cases which Harry covered up for which only added to the war hero’s frustrations with his best friend.  
#

The next morning Kingsley and Hermione sat opposite each other in the Minister’s office. They drank tea in silence as neither one really wanted to begin the conversation they absolutely needed to have.

“By the way, Kingsley, I saw Ron at Tea & Tomes yesterday and his behaviour was abominable. He bullied his way to the head of the customer line, then proceeded to try and force the server to charge him half of what he owed because he’s in the Auror office. He’s become increasingly embarrassing to everyone. Someone needs to speak to him.” She set down her teacup and wiped her chin. Hermione stared up at Kingsley with “that look”, the one she was famous for; an intense glare that said she meant business. Her eyes narrowed and she raised her chin as she waited for the response.

“Oh dear,” Kingsley sighed. “I know about the Ron problem, Hermione. Everyone does. Even Harry. But he protects and defends him, and won’t hear a bad word about him. And, there’s nothing we can do about it. Harry’s been clear. If Ron goes, he’ll go too. You and I both know, we can’t lose Harry.”

“Yes, yes, dear Harry. The wizard who brought down Voldemort.” She shook her head in disgust. “Frankly, I’m sick of hearing it and I was there! Honestly, Kingsley, we have to move on. This isn’t healthy. There have to be consequences to his behaviour.” She pushed out her bottom lip and picked at invisible threads on her navy blue dress.

Kingsley eyes fluttered. He held out his arms in resignation. “I know. I know. Do you want to be the one to tell Harry? Because I’ve tried. Several times. He won’t listen.”

“Well, it’s horrible. And, he’s getting worse.” Hermione huffed. “Anyways, let’s talk about Mr. Malfoy’s situation please. You know the facts. What’re you going to do about it?”

“Here’s the thing, Hermione. Tomlinson staunchly denies torturing Malfoy. It’s one man’s word against another, with one of those men being a former Death Eater. And yes, I know that’s unfair, but that’s the way it is. Maybe he tortured Malfoy, and maybe he didn’t.”

“Well then how did Mr. Malfoy get those wounds? Hmmmmm? He didn’t have a wand and Healer Sebastian has stated unreservedly those couldn’t have been made with wandless/wordless magic. There had to have been a wand involved.”

“Maybe Lucius inflicted them on himself before he went into custody? Or, perhaps they’re the result of his fall?” Kingsley sounded hopeful yet doubtful.

“No! No! No! They weren’t the result of his fall and he didn’t have a wand at home! How many times do I have to say that?”

“But, Hermione, we only have his word that his wand was gone.”

“Then question his elf, JoJo. He attended to Lucius.”

“That’s no good. No elf will testify to harm their master.”

“But, they won’t lie either. They’re bound to the truth. Please, have Harry talk to JoJo and I’ll be there to support them both. It’s only fair.”

Kingsley nodded. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll have Harry question JoJo with you present. In the meantime, Lucius stays in St. Mungo’s to continue his treatments per Healer Sebastian’s recommendation. How’s that for compromise?”

“Perfect. Just one more thing.”

Kingsley sighed. “Go on.”

“Given what seems to have happened in his cell, I want to give Lucius house arrest. The Ministry can monitor him. But, I’ll take no further chances with his safety.”

“How about different guards?” Kingsley asked hopefully.

“No.” Hermione’s defiant tone said it all.

“Fine, I can see I won’t win this one.”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

They shook hands, after which, Hermione gathered the wool navy coat which matched her dress and strolled out.  
#

Lucius munched on his dinner as he sat in quiet reflection. Who the hell had gotten into his room, and why had they stolen his wand? His mood improved dramatically as Hermione strolled in with a mysterious bag in her hands.

“Ms. Granger, how lovely to see you,” he smiled. He set his tray aside.

“Oh no, please go on. I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner, but I come bearing good news and a gift. JoJo told me you love chocolate chip ice cream and I’ve brought you some.” She handed it over with a sweet smile.

“How thoughtful of you. Yes, it’s my favourite. Will you join me in having some?”

“Um, I shouldn’t. Ice cream is terribly fattening and I was chubby in school, so I’m very watchful about that.”

“Well, you look fantastic now.”

“Thank you. That’s very nice.” Hermione blushes a deep crimson as she sat down.

“I hope I haven’t embarrassed you.”

“Of course not,” she lied. “But, here’s the other good news. You don’t have to go back to the holding cell. You can go home albeit under house arrest. I hope that’s okay.”

“Okay? It’s wonderful!” Lucius clapped his hands, then delicately took one of Hermione’s hands and kissed the back of it. “You’re an angel,” he sighed.

“I highly doubt that, but maybe I’ll celebrate with you and have some ice cream after all.”

They buzzed for a volunteer to bring a couple of bowls and spoons, then dug in. Together, they chatted joyfully about Lucius being able to go home, the latest news and gossip in the magical world. Finally, Hermione knew there was a subject she had to broach.

“Lucius, I’ve been wondering; has Draco been to see you?”

Lucius’s face dropped. His eyes told a weary story and a sadness seemed to overwhelm him in an instant. He set down his bowl and folded his hands in his lap. “No,” he said in a barely audible whisper.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Hermione took one of his hands in hers to Lucius’ obvious surprise. “I want to help you with this. Please, let me go see him. Weren’t you getting along?”

“Yes, in fact we were. He was understandably quite angry for almost a year after the war. We barely spoke. But, slowly he came around, and we began to talk. I mean really talk as father and son. We’d never done that before, not on such a deep level. We talked about everything – how I got involved, why I got involved, my mistakes, my shame, my frustration with my own stupidity. When he realized I truly meant it, we began to mend our relationship.” Lucius stared intoHermione’s eyes to see if she understood.

She nodded, smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Cissy was an entirely different story. Our relationship had always been a nice one. Not a real love match by any means but still, a good marriage. We respected each other, and stood by each other. But, the war changed everything. At the end there was nothing left but bitterness, anger and frustration. I told her that there was no reason to stay on if she didn’t want to. She left the next day.” Lucius’ shoulders slumped. His eyes closed. A few tears slid down his cheeks.

Hermione couldn’t believe the former Death Eater she had feared so completely was allowing himself to be vulnerable in her presence.

“There was nothing you could do, Mr. Malfoy. But we can do something now. May I speak to Draco?”

“Yes,” Lucius said in a submissive voice. “And, thank you.” He finally looked up at Hermione with a tear-stained face.

Her heart ached for the man whose life had been so thoroughly destroyed, and who obviously was willing to bear the responsibility of the choices and decisions that had led him to this point.

“We’ll get through this. You’ll see.” She squeezed his hand again and let herself out.

Lucius sighed. As he went to pick up his try, the cloaked figure surprised him once more.

“Truly, she’s very fuckable, Lucius.”

“Who are you?” he croaked. “Get out!”

“Or what?”

“I’ll call for the nurse.”

“I’ll be gone by that time. Besides, I want to know when you’re going to fuck Hermione Granger. You know you want to. You’re just itching to shove that pureblood cock of yours inside her tight, hot, wet pussy.” The figure laughed in a hoarse voice.

“Get out! That’s a lie. It’s all a lie!” Lucius yelled and pushed the buzzer for the nurse, but by the time she arrived the figure was gone.  
Nurse Whiles stepped in. “Yes, Mr. Malfoy, what can I do for you?”

“Someone is apparating in and out of my room. A person in a cloak. I can’t see their face but they’re threatening me.”

The nurse’s eyes flew wide in shock. “I’ll call the Auror office right away.”

“What can they do?” Lucius sounded exasperated.

“I don’t know, but this is their domain. Not mine.” The nurse rushed out in a flurry of robes.

Lucius leaned back onto his pillows. “Sweet Merlin, why is this happening? I’m doing everything I can to make amends. Truly I am. Please, I know I was a monster. I’m not that man anymore. Please help me?” He dissolved into heavy tears and sobbed into his pillow.  
#

Harry and Hermione sat at Lucius’ bedside. The former Death Eater who had manipulated and threatened so many now lay in his bed a terrified, pitiable figure.

His lips trembled, hands shook, and he tried push his disheveled hair out of his face. Red rimmed eyes bore the truth of his tears, and they darted back and forth from Hermione to Harry. “What can you do?” he asked in a raspy voice.

“Well, first we have to determine how this figure is getting in and out of the hospital,” Harry said in a voice that betrayed his utter confusion.

“This is a mystery,” Hermione admitted. “Why didn’t you say anything when I was here earlier?”

Lucius shrugged. I thought the first time was just my fears, some kind of utter silliness on my part. But, now it’s been twice and the person seems to be the same.

“What did they say exactly?”

“Well,” Lucius began. “They mainly kept saying that they could come in and out as they pleased and that they’d done me a favour.”

“A favour?” Hermione wrinkled her brow.

“Perhaps they mean uttering the Cruciatus curse?” Harry mused. “They must be the person who stole your wand.”

“I think so. I said as much and they didn’t deny it.” Lucius wrung his hands until Hermione gathered them into hers.

“We’re going to get through this. I won’t stop until I’ve solved every aspect of this case. I promise you.”

Lucius peered into Hermione’s caramel-coloured eyes. He found himself lost in her cream complexion, the soft lines of her gentle yet beautiful smile, and her pale pink of her lips. A sick feeling ran through his stomach. I’m attracted to her. The cloaked figure was right. Is right. Oh sweet Merlin, this can’t be happening. This has to stop. Quickly he began to hyperventilate. “Oh, oh, oh,” he screamed. “I…I… I c…can’t breathe.”

Hermione released his hands and rubbed her palms on his back. “Put your head down between your knees, Mr. Malfoy. That’s it. Listen to my voice. You’re safe here in the hospital. You’re safe here with me. Say it with me.”

“I’m safe here in the hospital,” he whispered. “I’m safe here with you. I’m safe here with you. I’m safe here with you.” Slowly, his breathing returned to normal.

“What just happened to me?” He stared at Hermione with quizzical eyes.

“A panic attack. It’s anxiety. I know it well. I used to have them all the time. I’ve learned how to calm myself down. You’ll be okay now.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking one of her hands in his own.

Harry watched in silence as the former Death Eater and his dear friend stared into each others’ eyes. He could have sworn he saw something, an attraction, a…

something he didn’t want to name. It can’t be. I know Hermione. She would never…. The words dropped off in his head.  
#

Harry and Hermione sat in the revamped cafeteria of St. Mungo’s. Harry nursed an Earl Grey Tea, while Hermione sipped a hot coffee.

“What do you make of what happened back there?” Harry asked.

Hermione hesitated before she answered. “I have a strong feeling that Lucius is suffering from PTSD. There’s no doubt in my mind that he and his family were tortured by Voldemort and Bellatrix.”

“Harry silently acquiesced. “Yup. I think you’re right. I can’t imagine what this is like for such a proud man. I mean, Lucius Malfoy was one of the most powerful wizards in England. Possibly in Europe.”

“Exactly! And now he’s a terrified, lost mess. I can’t believe he allowed himself to be so vulnerable in front of us. This is a man who could have killed us a few years ago. Although…” Hermione’s voice trailed off.

“Although what?”

“Even that night he never attacked anyone. He was the one who got attacked. Maybe he was all talk and no action.” She sipped her coffee and closed her eyes in thoughtful reflection.

“You might be right,” Harry mused, lost in his own thoughts just like Hermione.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione finally meet for the first time since the war. Harry interrogates JoJo the elf, and Draco sets out to see his father, but what he finds is quite unexpected. Lucius suffers a serious setback.

Draco Malfoy pulled the navy blue wool coat tightly about his waist. A fierce wind blew about on the cool October morning. Diagon Alley bustled with thriving businesses. He smiled at the dozens of new shops selling Muggle fashions, Muggle literature, and all kinds of new pastry shops and cafes. He thrived on the excitement and energy although a nervous pulse drummed inside of him. Draco hadn’t seen Hermione Granger in six years. That day the battle ended in the Great Hall was the last time he’d seen her.

He’d watched wide-eyed with astonishment and respect as she confidently battled Death Eaters and anyone who came her way. Her wand flashed bright pink pulses and there was not a moment’s hesitation in any of her moves. He recalled, with shame, how he sat huddled in the corner hugging his parents in utter terror. The wand in his hand lay useless at his side. He’d tried to give it to his father but he saw Lucius by his side utterly shell-shocked, completely unable to move, let alone wave a wand. Now, Hermione was trying to save his father’s life. He didn’t understand it but he was going to find out the truth of the matter.

Draco strolled into the coffee shop where they’d arranged to meet – Tea & Tomes. Hermione had said in her letter that it was her favourite, so it felt like the right thing to do. He scanned the intimate setting and quickly found her sitting at a table sipping out of a mug. Draco blinked several times in surprise at the mature, beautiful, young woman he saw at the table. Far from the bushy-haired little girl he remembered, her hair flowed in soft waves just beyond her shoulders. Her curvy, yet fit physique showed off a pair of gorgeous legs.

He could tell, even from a distance, that now she wore make-up and took great care with her appearance. She wore an off-white a-line dress with a black belt cinched at her waist, a black sweater draped over her shoulders, and black pumps on her feet. He took in several deep breaths before he approached her. But, before he could utter a word, Hermione looked, smiled broadly and stood up to greet him.

“Hello Draco,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Hello Hermione,” he said, with every ounce of courage he could muster.

“Thank you for coming. Would you like me to get you something?”

“Uh, no, uh, I can get it. I’ll be right back.”

As Draco shuffled off to order for himself, Hermione took in a deep breath. That was the first time he’d ever said hello to her and used her name. It felt momentous and strange at the same time. The two eventually sat down and Hermione decided she had to take the lead. “Obviously you know that I’m defending your father.”

“Yeah, I do. Is it just me, or is there something bizarre about this whole scenario?”

“Yes, it’s a bit strange,” she admitted.

“I couldn’t believe it when I heard that. It’s not like…I mean he wasn’t…hell, the man was a Death Eater!” Draco blushed as he uttered the final words.

“Draco, it was a long time ago, and I sense your father’s a very different man now. He’s thoroughly ashamed for one. And, he’s a much calmer, kinder person from what I can tell.”

Draco sat back in his chair and offered a smug smile. “You think so? Hermione, I know you’re intellectually brilliant, but trust me, this is a man who could sell you your own knickers! He’s showing you the man he wants you to see. Nothing more.”  
Hermione’s face fell. “I don’t understand. He told me the two of you have a much better relationship, that you even talk now and share things. Isn’t that true?”

A certain desperation crept into her voice.

Draco sipped his latté thoughtfully. He wanted to tell the truth, yet he didn’t want to scare her off. He knew his own reasons for wanting to get to know her better would eventually be revealed. “Yes, that’s the truth. We get along much better, and yeah, we actually talk. But, Hermione think about it. This is a man whose idea of parenting was to bark orders, beat the house elves, and basically serve as a dictator in his own house. Then, on top of it all, he bungles everything he’s asked to do which forces me to have to take the mark with that snake-loving bastard under our roof. Wouldn’t you say that anything would be better than that?” He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her with inquisitive eyes.

Hermione’s shoulders slumped. “Since you put it that way, of course, anything would be better. But, he’s trying isn’t he?” Again, she absolutely had to think the best of Lucius although she couldn’t figure out why.

Draco shrugged. “Yes, he’s trying. I’ll give him that. He doesn’t beat the elves any longer, and he doesn’t scream and bark about the house. He actually speaks in a normal tone. And, he talks to me instead of telling me what to do. So, I’ll give him that. But, now he’s gone and done something stupid again!” Draco rolled his eyes as he picked up his mug.

“I don’t think he’s guilty,” Hermione said hopefully.

“Of course not. You’re representing him. You’ve got to hope for the best.”

“No, I mean, I really don’t think he did it. But, Harry is going to interview JoJo at the manor and I’ll listen in. I think we’ll learn more.”

Draco offered up a sarcastic laugh. “Really? And you think JoJo would say anything bad about the master of the manor?” He should his head in confusion.

“Come on, Hermione, you know better than that. JoJo will say what’s expected of him.”

“But he won’t lie,” she offered defiantly.

“Not outright, no. But, he’ll leave out just enough information so as not to hurt him. I doubt you’ll get anything.”

“Draco, did you know your dad’s in the hospital?” Hermione figured another tactic might work to encourage Draco to get on board.

The young wizard slammed his coffee mug onto the table. “What?” he screeched.

“Yes! He was tortured in his holding cell. Of course the guard denies it but even the Healer believes it, not just me. We’ve had to transfer him to St. Mungo’s.

And, he was attacked in Diagon Alley.”

Draco’s usually confident blue eyes turned cloudy with worry. His face briefly became panic-stricken before he regained his composure. He leaned forward on his elbows as he contemplated the disconcerting news. In an apprehensive tone he finally spoke. “Is…is…is he okay?”

“Well, he’s improving day by day. But when he fell, he hit his head and went unconscious for a bit. His wand was stolen, but he didn’t figure that out until after he returned home from St. Mungo’s. They confirmed he had a mild concussion. Although the marks on his leg were anything but mild. It’s clear he was tortured.”

Dumbfounded, Draco shook his head. He rubbed his palm over his eyes and cheek. He appeared almost dazed by the appalling situation his father was in. “I honestly didn’t know,” he whispered. “Why didn’t the hospital call me?”  
Hermione shrugged. “I don’t know. But that’s why I’m here. Your father would love to see you. It would really raise his spirits.”

Draco ran a hand through his familiar white-blond hair before he nodded in agreement. “Of course I’ll go. I can go right now.” He stood up to leave then apparently changed his mind and sat back down.

“You must think me heartless for the things I said before,” he said in a voice riddled with regret.

“No. I can’t imagine what you went through. None of us can. It was one thing to be on the run, but to have that monster in your home every day…it must have been terrifying beyond belief. In fact, I’m amazed the lot of you weren’t hospitalized for PTSD.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “What’s PTSD?”

“Oh sorry, I’m so used to saying that. Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s very much a war-related condition, but people can get it from many stressful or traumatic situations. I had it. So did Harry, Ginny, Neville and a whole bunch of other people.”

“What happened to you?” A cold sweat ran down Draco’s neck and back as he anticipated the reply.

“Loads of things. I couldn’t go anywhere for the first three months. I stayed inside at the Burrow and we all kind of took care of each other. My appetite was practically nothing. Molly almost force-fed me. I couldn’t sleep, and when I did I had horrible nightmares of snatchers running after me, Bellatrix torturing me and ...” Hermione’s voice trailed off. She realized what she’d said. “Draco, I didn’t mean to imply that…”

He waved her off. His usual ceramic-coloured skin turned crimson with shame. “I’m sorry for what you went through in our house. Th…that…that was unforgiveable. I don’t know how you can even look me, or my dad in the face.” He stared down at his coffee unwilling to look at her.  
Hermione gently covered Draco’s hands with one of her own. “Look, Draco, it wasn’t your fault. She was insane. Besides, it’s not about her anymore. It’s about us – the survivors. I got help. I got through it.”

“How?” his voice was so soft she could barely hear.

“I went to see a therapist; a Muggle psychologist to help me work it through.”

“And you’re okay now?” Draco asked hopefully.

Hermione smiled. “I’m glad to say, I am. Took time though. About a year of seeing her on a weekly basis, and then once a month after that for another year.”

“Did Harry go too?”

“Oh! The thing is, it’s not right for me to say who did and who didn’t. But I can say, Harry’s doing much better, and so is Ginny. Ron didn’t quite recover though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hmmmmm, that’s a really long story. I don’t really want to get into it right now. So, I’ll let you go and you can head off to St. Mungo’s. It’ll be wonderful for your father.”

Draco pursed his lips, nodded and offered a brave smile. He desperately wanted to know more. He’d never heard that term before but everything else sounded all too familiar. As Draco stood up he offered Hermione his hand once again. “Thanks, Hermione. I appreciate the time.”

“No problem. Do you realize this is the first civilized conversation we’ve ever had together?” She offered a light, nervous laugh.

“Yeah. I do, and about that, there’s something I want, well, something I need to say. I really want to apologize for acting like such an asshole all those years in school. I had no right to say those things to you, and I’m really sorry.”

Although the apology took her by surprise, the sad, quiet, honest way Draco spoke tugged at Hermione’s heart. She knew it was heartfelt and had cost him a lot to admit that. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. Now, go see your father.”

They offered each other one last smile before parting. Draco headed off to St. Mungo’s and Hermione sat down, opened up a book, and gave herself some quiet time which she had longed for all day.  
#

Harry and Hermione walked into Malfoy Manor as if it was the most normal thing to be doing. “This is really surreal,” Hermione said. “First I actually sit down and share a coffee with Draco, and now, a couple of hours later, I’m in Malfoy Manor.

“Ummmmm, yeah. Let’s just get this over with,” Harry said. “This place still creeps me out.”

Hermione giggled. “It’s not haunted, you know.”

Harry stared at her through his familiar round, wire-rimmed glasses. “How do you know? Snake-eyes might’ve just left something of himself behind.”

“Oh, Harry, I doubt that very much. Anyway, let’s get this over with. Poor JoJo must be shaking at the thought of this.”

Harry nodded. “JoJo, he called. It’s Auror Harry Potter here and Hermione Granger. Can we speak with you please?”

A loud crack announced the elf’s presence. Enormous, periwinkle eyes blinked in fright. “Yes, sir. Yes, miss. JoJo is here. You need to speak with me?”

Harry offered the elf the brightest smile he could muster. He bent down and shook the elf’s hand. “Yes, JoJo, but please know, I won’t put you in any danger.

I’m only trying to help Mr. Malfoy. He’s in hospital you know.”

“Oh no! Master’s sick?” JoJo practically squealed with fear.

“Ummm, yes, he caught something, and we have to treat him,” Hermione lied for the elf’s sake. “But, hopefully, you can help us get the charges against him dropped. I’m his attorney and I’m helping him.” Hermione also bent down, smiled and shook the elf’s hand.

“That’s wonderful,” the elf smiled. “With you, he’s certain to be alright. What can JoJo do?”

“Can you tell us exactly what happened when Mr. Malfoy came home that day from Diagon Alley. First, what time did he arrive?” Harry asked the question in a kind, soft voice.

“Oh, Master came home about 4:30. He looked terrible. His robes were dirty, there was a terrible bruise on his forehead, and he was very confused. He said he’d been at St. Mungo’s because he had a fall in Diagon Alley.”

“I see. What do you mean confused?” Harry asked.

“At first he called me Riley. That’s another elf. I reminded him that I’m JoJo and he said of course that was true and could I help him upstairs. I did. Then, I had to help him take off his clothes, and put him into pyjamas, and into bed. He was shaking the entire time.”

“So, he couldn’t do that for himself?” Hermione asked.

“No! As JoJo said, Master was shaking the entire time. He just wanted to get into bed. And then, Master said the Healer told him I was to watch him and make sure to wake him up every two hours. So, I did until the Aurors came to arrest him.” At that, JoJo broke down and sobbed. “Poor…poor…Master. Arrested again!” JoJo fell down on the floor and cried his heart out while Hermione and Harry stood by helpless.

“JoJo please, it will be okay,” Hermione said in a caring voice. She patted JoJo’s arm until he looked up and offered a weak smile.

“Thank you miss, you’re too kind. Dear me, I’ve been rude. Can I offer you anything?”

“No, we’re fine, thank you,” Harry said in a considerate voice. “So, you were with Mr. Malfoy the whole time?”

“Almost,” JoJo said. “The only time I left him was at 7:30 to make him supper. But it wasn’t long; only a few minutes.” JoJo stared at Hermione, then Harry, and back again. “Master couldn’t have gotten out in that time. No, no, no! It wasn’t possible.” Once again JoJo began to sob.  
Hermione pulled Harry to the side of the room. “Harry, you have to admit that Lucius was in no state to apparate out of the manor, go somewhere, attack someone, then get back here and get into bed. Besides, JoJo was with him almost the entire time.”

Harry nodded and blew out air. “You might be right.”

Once JoJo managed to cry out his frustration, Harry and Hermione helped him up. “JoJo, did you see Mr. Malfoy’s wand?” Harry hoped this wouldn’t send the elf over the edge again.

The elf shook his head. “No. In fact, when I helped him with his robes, we both saw that his wand was missing. That’s when master realized it was gone.”

“So then. No wand. Completely incapacitated. Harry, you have to admit your case against my client is looking very weak.” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and stared indignantly at her friend. “I insist the charges be dismissed.”

Harry shook his head. “But, one thing is still unaccounted for, Hermione.”

“What’s that?”

“The time that Lucius says he was in Diagon Alley is only by his word. He could have been somewhere else in fact. Although we can pinpoint where the wand was and the curse that was used, we can’t pinpoint times. We never could. So, we do know that Lucius’ wand was used to perform the Cruciatus curse on someone. Who that someone is, we still don’t know. And, the wand was thrown into those woods where we found it. So, both of those things are suspicious.”

Hermione pursed her lips and pressed a palm to her forehead. “Okay, then we have to find witnesses who saw him in Diagon Alley, right?”

“Right,” Harry agreed. “And, remember, he could have apparated to St. Mungo’s from wherever he was. Plus, he could’ve put that bump on his head too.”

“But, what about the concussion? That was verified at St. Mungo’s,” Hermione argued.

“Well, maybe whomever he cursed fought back?” Harry shrugged. “There’s still too many unknowns.”

“But, you’re still going to give him house arrest?” Hermione’s tone suggested that Harry had better agree.

“Of course. I won’t go back on my word. JoJo, your master will come home soon, okay?”

JoJo smiled brightly. “Yes, sir, Mr. Potter, thank you. Is master going to be okay?”

Hermione took the elf’s hand once again. “I’ll make sure of it, JoJo.”

With that, Harry and Hermione left the manor, and a very happy elf.

#

Draco walked tentatively into his father’s room. He smiled as he saw his father sitting up in bed reading The Wizarding Financial Times, one of his favourite newspapers. Draco knew that at least some recovery had taken place.  
Lucius looked up and grinned. “Draco! So glad you came.” He put down the newspaper. “What’s in that beautifully wrapped box of yours?” he smirked.

“Uh, something to cheer you up.”

Lucius took the box from his son and unwrapped it. “Oh my! Belgian chocolates. My favourite. Thank you. Please, sit down. You can stay a bit, can’t you?” he said hesitantly.

“Of course.”

The two Malfoy men sat in a stiff silence for several minutes. Neither one seemed eager to speak lest the other one reject him. And, there had been far too many moments of anger, frustration, bitterness and rejection. On both sides.

Lucius’ eyes darted from the box of chocolates to his son and back again. “Would you like a chocolate?” he offered uncertainly.  
Draco smiled and took one and his father followed.

“Hmmmm, these are definitely my favourite,” Lucius hummed in pleasure.

“I met with Hermione Granger earlier today,” Draco said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say. “She looks really good. I mean, she seems as if she’s doing very well.” Draco’s shoulders fell. “I’m not doing too well, am I?”

Lucius set aside the chocolates on his bedside table, and gently took his son’s hands in his own. “You’re doing fine. It’s still not easy between us, is it?”

A few tears slid down Draco’s once overly-proud face. He wiped them away as quickly as he could.

“Don’t wipe your tears away. They’re natural. Unfortunately, I was taught that crying is a weakness. That’s a lie. And, I taught you that lie. For that, I’m truly sorry.” Lucius’ blunt honesty caught his son by surprise.

“You cry?” he asked his voice breaking.

“A lot. I don’t hold it back anymore. There’s no reason to. There’s no shame in it.” Lucius offered his son a soft, loving smile. Once again he folded his sons’ hands into his own. “Draco, I love you. I haven’t said that enough. In fact, I probably never said it. I know I said I was proud of you and cared for you, but that was unfair. A father should tell his son that he loves him. And, I do.” Tears flowed down Lucius’ and Draco’s cheeks. For the first time in their lives father and son held each other and cried together. Once the tears passed, Draco found the courage to ask the question that lingered on his mind.

“Father, have you ever heard of PTSD, that is, Post-trauamatic Stress Disorder?’

Lucius shook his head and spoke quietly. “No. What is that?”

“It’s something Miss…Hermione told me about. She said it’s a reaction to war. She said she had it, and Harry, and many others. But, she also said there’s help for it. I hope you won’t think me weak, but I want that help.”

Lucius chuckled softly. “Why would I think you weak?”

“Well…because… I mean…our family….we’ve never admitted to needing help and….” Draco trailed off unsure what to say to his once dignified father.

“No we didn’t. And that was another mistake…a failure of mine. Everyone needs help now and then. Everyone.” Lucius closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

When he reopened them he saw the sheer astoundment on his son’s face. He patted his son’s hand. “Draco, much has changed for me in these past years. But, truthfully, it began to change a long time ago.”

“When? How?”

“Well, a little history will help. As a pureblood wizard I was educated to hate Muggles and Muggle-borns. And, I do mean hate. I don’t mean dislike. I was taught they’re dirty, inferior and a threat to people like me. My father was a supremacist to his very core. My mother, not so much, but even she revelled in being a pureblood witch. Everything I learned from the cradle until the time I went to Hogwarts was all about hatred. I was taught that my blood status meant my superiority.

I was told that I was to take my place among the other purebloods and protect our world. Whenever I attempted to question my parents, I was punished. And severely. My father didn’t hold back. I would be sent to bed without dinner. My wand would be taken away. And, I was beaten severely, several times. My parents did everything they could to educate me in pureblood doctrine. But, you see, educate isn’t even the right word. I was indoctrinated. And, when Riddle came along and spouted the same rhetoric, well, I was certain that he was the leader for our people. Never mind the fact that he was a Muggle-born.”

“Riddle?”

“Yes. His father was a Muggle. Some of us knew. We didn’t care. We didn’t doubt him or question him. And so I became part of a hateful group of wizards and witches who were determined to believe that we were the height of magical society. No one had the right to question us. And then…”

“And then?” Draco asked in a small voice.

“The first war came. Riddle was merciless. He didn’t just murder people, he tortured. And he enjoyed it. He loved to hurt people, Draco. It made him feel powerful and in control. But he was anything but in control. He was completely out of control. Many of us began to fear for our own lives. I feared for you and your mother. I didn’t tell anyone this of course, but I was terrified. And then, the unthinkable happened. He was gone! I was so happy. I was blissfully happy. Elated! The monster was gone. Still, a part of knew that this powerful wizard might have done something…anything to ensure his return. That thought haunted me every day and night until he did return. And…”

“And what?” Draco’s voice shook.

Lucius’s head bobbed up and down. Spittle dribbled from his lips. His breathing became ragged and shallow. “It’s…it’s too much…I c…can’t.” Lucius’ eyes rolled back in his head as he went unconscious.

“Father, are you alright? Should I call for the healer?” A panic-stricken Draco ran to the door. “We need a healer her right away!”

Within seconds Healer Sebastian ran into the room. “What happened?”

“We were talking about the war and then…then he just stopped and this…” Draco ran his hands through his hair and paced about. “What have I done?”

The healer rolled his wand about Lucius’ head. “It was too much for him alright. He needs to rest and I need to tend to him. Please, go to the waiting room. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve finished here.”

“Will he be okay?” Draco cried, stricken with terror.

“I hope so. I hope so.” Healer Sebastian turned away and once again his wand waved over a still unconscious Lucius.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Draco learns more about a condition called PTSD, and has an encounter with a lovely Muggle. Harry has a difficult conversation with Ron. The cloaked figure returns and Harry has to take extraordinary measures to protect Lucius.  
> PLEASE, be aware there is a great deal of information on PTSD which could be a trigger for people with this condition or a panic or anxiety disorder. THIS CHAPTER may not be appropriate for anyone with PTSD, an anxiety or panic disorder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, there will be additional chapters with symptoms and information related to PTSD and war trauma. PROCEED WITH GREAT CAUTION.

Chapter 4  
Harry and Ron sat together in Auror Office each inside the weight of their own thoughts. Harry had asked for the meeting event though every fibre of his being didn’t want to do so. Ron had been and was his best friend from the moment they met on the train to Hogwarts. Each had saved the other’s life more times than they could recall. Ron had always been there for him, as a friend, as a fighter, and now as a brother-in-law. Harry also loved the Weasleys with a fierce passion. With no parents of his own they had stepped in and treated him like a son. Loved him. Took care of him. Helped guide him into the wizarding world. And now, he had to tell his best friend that…

“So, are we gonna talk or not,” Ron said brightly as if nothing was wrong.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Harry leaned forward and tried his best to speak in the most non-judgmental voice possible. Ron, you know I love working with you and…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but you don’t want to give me too many awards cause…”

Harry held up his hand. “You need to let me finish,” he said in an unusually authoritative voice.

“Sure,” Ron said a bit trepidatious.

“The thing is we’ve had a few complaints and I’ve got to deal with them. It’s part of my job.”

“Is that so?” Ron asked defiantly. “A few complaints. Who? Hermione Granger?” Ron scrunched his face and stared in the opposite direction. “She’s getting to be a bit too much you know with all that fame and…”

“Ron!” Harry yelled. He hadn’t wanted to. He didn’t mean to. But he had to. The time had come.

“Oy! What’s in your wand?”

“Ron, this is serious. Kingsley demanded that I speak with you.”

“What about?”

A sick feeling sat inside Harry’s stomach. A knot of bitterness and frustration that ate at him like acid. “Ron, you’ve been behaving in ways unbecoming an Auror. That other day in the café with Hermione was just the tip of the problem. You’ve been doing that everywhere. You don’t close your cases and well…you’re behaving so oddly. You’re bragging everywhere. You’re giving interviews to every magazine and it’s six years past the war. This has to stop. Now!” Harry sat back, that sick feeling pulsing inside his stomach. His left eye twitched and a brutal pain blustered at the back of his head. Another headache.

“Oh, is that so?” Ron pushed his chair back and stood up over Harry. “So, I’m not good enough for the great Harry Potter. Is that it?” Ron seethed through gritted teeth.

Harry stood up and faced his friend with palms in the air. “Ron, please don’t say anything you’ll regret. But, the fact is, I have to suspend you for one week with no pay. Things have gone too far. You’re behaving in an unprofessional manner and you’re not doing your job. It’s gone on for far too long. I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

Ron’s head bobbed up and down like a silly toy out of control. “Fine…yeah…fine. Go ahead. Suspend me. The great fucking Harry Potter suspends his best friend. Aren’t you just the fucking hero! Well fuck you! Screw you and piss of!” Ron bolted out of the room before Harry could say a word.  
He ran out of the room after Ron but his friend had too much of a head start. Harry watched as Ron pushed and elbowed people out of the way. The young wizard wanted to vomit. He’d suspended his best friend and brother-in-law.

Even though Ginny would support him 100% he hadn’t wanted to do it. But, something had gone wrong with Ron. He and Hermione had begged him to get help especially since his brother’s death. But, Ron kept insisting he was fine. Still, the years went by and Ron’s anger grew exponentially. He lashed out at anyone who reeked of being on “the wrong side”. He used his authority as an Auror to hurt people, not help them. Kingsley and Harry had stood by and let it happen. They hadn’t wanted to hurt the young war hero and wizard who’d given so much and lost much more. Harry shook his head. He slumped against the door to his office and fell down to his knees, hung his head and cried.

#

Ron stood outside on the streets of Muggle London. Fuck Harry Potter. Fuck the wizarding world. I’m a fucking war hero and this is how they treat me. They should kiss my feet. I stopped fucking Voldemort. Me! I killed him, not Harry fucking Potter. And fuck Hermione too! Not good enough for her. No!!!! She wanted more out of life. She’ll pay. They’ll all pay. Ron crossed the street and walked past one shop after another. He stormed down the street his anger roiling inside of him. He breathed louder and louder until he shouted: “Fuck all of you!” He didn’t care that the Muggles around him stared and laughed. Ron didn’t notice. All he could see was the fury that surrounded him.  
#

Draco paced the floor outside of his father’s room until he saw Hermione rush in. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank you for coming. I didn’t who else to call, I … I…”

“It’s fine. I’m glad you called. What did the healer say?”

Draco sagged against the wall. “He’s conscious now. And, he doesn’t think there’s any damage. It was me…I did this…” He jammed a finger hard into his chest. “I pushed him too hard to tell me things and he got upset.” Draco slammed a foot against the wall and pushed away. “Idiot! I never learn!”

“Okay, okay.” Hermione gently took his elbow and turned him to face her. “It’s a process, Draco. It really takes time. Remember, I’ve been there.”

Draco looked up, his face full of humiliation and torment. He shuffled from one foot to the other, shaking his head and mumbling “idiot” over and over again.”

“Okay, you’re an idiot. Let’s move on.” Hermione tried again and again to encourage the young wizard with an empathic tone.

Finally, they were interrupted by Healer Sebastian who stepped out into the hall with a confident smile on his face. “I’m pleased to say Mr. Malfoy is doing much better. He’s had a hard time of it so go easy on him, but a brief conversation should be okay.”

Hermione and Draco padded into the room. They found Lucius lying down but his head propped up with several pillows. An insecure smile covered his face. They took the chairs by his bed and waited for him to be ready.

“I’m glad you’re both here,” he said in a gravelly voice. “I’m okay. Really I am. For some reason, I was overcome with emotion and….and it all got a bit much.”

“We’re glad you’re okay,” Hermione said with greater confidence than she felt. “I just wanted come by to tell you that when you’re ready you’ll go back home and I’ll continue to support you until all this is over.” She took his hand squeezed it and grinned joyfully.

“Thank you,” he said breathlessly.

“And I will to. I think we need to be more supportive of each other,” Draco added.

Lucius beamed at his son’s declaration. “That’s all I need right now.”

“Except some rest,” Healer Sebastian said as he strolled in. “Alright, visiting hours are over. My patient needs his sleep.”

Draco leaned over and uncharacteristically hugged his father. Lucius welled up with a few tears as his son patted him on the shoulder. Hermione and Draco waved good-bye and left Lucius in the good care of Healer Sebastian.

“Well, it’s been quite a day,” Hermione said. “I don’t know about you but I need to go home, have a BIG glass of wine and jump into bed.”  
Draco laughed lightly. “I think I’ll do the same.” He grabbed her hands. “Thank you, Hermione. You really are wonderful,” he said surprised at his own words.

“Thank you. You know, I don’t think I ever heard you laugh before. It’s nice.”

“Yeah. It feels good,” Draco said, a far-off expression on his face. “I think I’ll get going.”

“Okay. We’ll talk soon.” Hermione walked off first leaving Draco to wonder just what had happened between them. She couldn’t believe that she was on good terms with Lucius and now Draco. How had this happened? She tried to put it out of her overly-busy mind but knew that she probably wouldn’t and couldn’t.

As with all things, she had to mull it over and over and over until she’d over-thought every single aspect of what had occurred in her life in recent weeks.

First, she’d agreed to take Lucius’ case despite the fact that she’d told Kingsley flat out that she probably wouldn’t. Then she demanded Lucius be taken care of in the hospital. And then….It all kept humming around and around in her tiny but brilliant brain. All of the words, the smiles, the hugs, the hand-shakes. What did it all mean?

#

Draco walked into the Muggle bookstore completely overwhelmed. Not only had he never been in a such a store, he had no idea where to find what he wanted. He stared at the thousands of books, all on topics he had probably never heard of. A petite, brunette with her hair in a fetching bob stepped up to him. Her amicable expression told him she meant to help.

“Do you need any assistance?” she asked in a gracious voice.

“Actually, I do,” he smiled, thankful for the help. “I’m looking for any books you might have on Post-traumatic Stress Disorder.”

She nodded her head. “Oh yes, I’m sure we have several. They’d be in the section on Psychology. Have you been in our store before?”

“Sorry, no,” he mumbled.

“No worries. Please, let me show you.”

Draco followed the pretty young woman whom he estimated to be just about his own age. He marveled at how courteous and congenial she was. Not at all the way he’d been educated to think. Draco thought back to his father’s words of earlier that day. One word kept repeating itself in his mind. Indoctrination. He too had been indoctrinated. Just like his father. His grandfather and all the generations of Malfoys before him. Why? For what purpose? He stopped behind her when they reached the shelf of books she wanted to show him.

“Here we go.” She pulled several books off the shelf. “This one is written by a Psychologist by the name of Dr. Harry Winston. I think a book like that would definitely be more credible. Now, this one was written by a Psychiatrist by the name of Dr. Celine Attonborough. I’ve heard of her. She’s quite famous. I don’t know the author of this third one, but I think you’d do really well with these two.” She handed them over to Draco who took them silently.

  
He had no idea what a psychologist was. Or a psychiatrist. What was the difference? He couldn’t ask for fear of founding horribly ignorant. So he took the books and smiled. At some point, he heard himself say thank you. Then, he followed her again, and paid for the books which were placed into a “recycled paper bag”, again a phrase he’d never heard before. What was recycled and why was that important? Draco strolled out of the store as if in a wondrous dream. A parallel word right beside his own.

A world of books and music, people and food and all kinds of events that he knew nothing about. How can we just go on with our lives ignoring these people? That young woman was so nice. So kind. So pretty and… Draco realized with a start he found her attractive. He didn’t know her name. He knew nothing about her except that she was a Muggle. A very attractive Muggle woman. He turned around and stared as she helped someone else in the store. A silly smile crossed his lips. How could I have not known that they too could be nice and…?

  
Way too much had happened that day for Draco to process. He clutched the book bag and walked toward an alleyway where he disapparated home to Malfoy Manor. Back to the safety of the magical world, where everything made sense again. And yet? Draco looked at his books. Inside them he hoped he would some answers. Answers for his own troubles – the nightmares, the night terrors – the nights he bolted out of his bed his pyjamas dripping with sweat. The nights he prowled about the manor sick with fear that Riddle would once again find a way to rise from the dead. The nights he lay awake in his bed soaked in dread, anxiety and panic.

He could feel it now that feeling of revulsion at his own weakness, at his own lack of ability to fight back, at the struggle that punched inside the very core of his being. He had stood there and watched as Bellatrix tortured Hermione along with his parents. They said nothing. They did nothing. They let her torture Hermione. And she did. Bellatrix had whipped her wand across Hermione’s arms until the young witch screamed in agony. Draco fell against the hallway wall and vomited. He grabbed his arms and dropped to the floor. Overhwelmed with guilt he simply sat there, hour after hour until JoJo convinced him to go to bed.

Carefully, JoJo gave Draco a dreamless sleep potion and laid his head on the bed’s pillow to fall asleep.  
“Poor master Draco,” JoJo whispered under his breath. “Still suffering. So sad.” JoJo padded quietly out of the room and left Draco to his rest.

#

Draco read on: "Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a mental illness. It involves exposure to trauma involving death or the threat of death, serious injury, or sexual violence. Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a mental illness. It involves exposure to trauma involving death or the threat of death, serious injury, or sexual violence. PTSD causes intrusive symptoms such as re-experiencing the traumatic event. Many people have vivid nightmares, flashbacks, or thoughts of the event that seem to come from nowhere. They often avoid things that remind them of the event—for example, someone who was hurt in a car crash might avoid driving. PTSD can make people feel very nervous or ‘on edge’ all the time. Many feel startled very easily, have a hard time concentrating, feel irritable, or have problems sleeping well. They may often feel like something terrible is about to happen, even when they are safe. Some people feel very numb and detached. They may feel like things around them aren’t real, feel disconnected from their body or thoughts, or have a hard time feeling emotions. People also experience a change in their thoughts and mood related to the traumatic event. For some people, alcohol or drugs can be a way to cope with PTSD."

  
Draco blinked several times as he read and re-read the information several times. His hands trembled as he held the book. Spasms tremored through his necks and shoulders. The doctor was quoting something called “The Canadian Mental Health Association”. He had no idea what that meant but it was obviously an organization of some importance. He knew where Canada was and he’d even met some wizards and witches from there. Did they know about this? He wondered. For the first time since the war something made sense to Draco. He had PTSD. He’d been traumatized. Now, he knew why his father had found solace in dozens, perhaps hundreds of bottles of fire whiskey after the war.

He’d scrutinized his father’s every move; his descent into a drunken madness. Draco always believed it was the drinking that drove his mother away, but now he considered that she too had been traumatized. After all, she’d watched as her own sister who was completely insane followed Riddle with utter devotion.

He recalled how she bragged about his love for her.

Bella would dance and cackle about. “When this stupid war is over I won’t need my husband any longer. He’ll have served his purpose. The Dark Lord and I will marry and have children. They’ll be the most important children in the world!” Sadly, she believed her own words.

#

Lucius nervously got out of bed for the first time since he arrived at St. Mungo’s. Attended by Healer Sebastian and watched carefully by Hermione and Draco, he took his first steps and the leg held. Sebastian handed him a cane and Lucius walked trepidatiously about the room. Despite his apprehensiveness he made it to the door and back on his own. Lucius blew out air as he sat back down on his bed. “I had no idea it would be so hard,” he laughed.

“You sustained heavy damage to that leg. It will be a few more weeks until you can walk without that cane. But, since you have a pool in that lovely home of yours, I suggest you use it. Every day. As many laps as you can imagine. And, you should walk around in the water too. That will help strengthen the leg.”

“Wouldn’t some physiotherapy be helpful?” Hermione wondered out loud until she remembered the wizarding world didn’t know anything about such things.  
Healer Sebastian mulled her words. “Well, as you know, we don’t have physiotherapy in our arsenal. I’ve heard the term, but sadly, I don’t know anything about it.”

“It’s the science of exercise and rehabilitation. They would provide some pain relief too with deep massage and then practical exercise to strengthen Lucius’ leg.”

“Makes sense to me,” Lucius said, surprised at his own words.

“Well, I’ll let Ms. Granger help you with that. But, honestly, it sounds like a good idea, AND something we should know more about.” With that, the elderly healer exited the room.

“Why don’t we have physiotherapy in the wizarding world?" Draco asked with complete honesty.

“Because all this time, they’ve only dealt with what they could heal magically. It’s why counselling and therapy don’t exist in this world either. Peoples’ problems are supposed to be healed with charms and potions. And while they help, they don’t heal everything.”

Lucius nodded in agreement. “For the first time in my life, I’m realizing how true that is.” He lay back on his pillows. “The truth is, Hermione, if it was anything to do with Muggle science, the magical world ran away from it like it was a plague. We were always told we didn’t need such things.”

“Indoctrinated, you mean,” said Draco with a haughty sniff.

“What?” Hermione asked in astonishment.

“We’ve been indoctrinated. My father said so that day. All of us. All us wizards and witches have been humming along as if our world was everything. Well it’s not. There’s a whole world out there we know nothing about. And you know? Muggles are pretty damn smart.” Draco’s rant wasn’t over. “I’ve been reading two books on PTSD by these famous doctors. Everything they write makes sense to me!” He pointed a finger to his chest. His face flushed a deep red as he worked his jaw. “It makes me so mad.”

Hermione looked at Lucius and then back to Draco. “Draco, where did you get books on PTSD?”

“A Muggle bookstore. Where did you think I got them? Out of thin air?” He snorted in derision.

“No, but I had no idea you would go on your own. I would’ve gone with you to be supportive.”

“Oh. Sorry,” he said rather sheepishly realizing how his old snooty voice had returned to him in that moment.

“It’s okay. It’s not a big deal. I’m glad you got the books and I’m happy to talk about it anytime.”

“I’d like that. I really would,” Draco grinned.

Lucius laid back and watched the surreal scene unfold. His son and Hermione Granger were becoming friends. It might take more time but they would be friends. He could see the foundation forming itself around them and he smiled with genuine joy. A new era was beginning for he and his son. “Well, you two, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to have a rest and then I hope to take another walk.”

Draco nodded. As if it was a standard part of his life now, he hugged his father, and he and Hermione left the hospital chatting away like two old friends.

Lucius closed his eyes and felt himself drifting away into a deep, quiet sleep when a familiar voice woke him up.

“She’s so damn fuckable! He wants to fuck her. I know it.” A sneer formed on its lips and its cruel voice crackled with scorn.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Lucius tried to push the button for the nurse but heard nothing.

“I broke that thing. It won’t work. But, I think you’ve got a problem. Draco wants to fuck Hermione. You want to fuck Hermione. Who’s going to fuck her first?”

The cloaked figure smiled in derision. “Maybe you’ll fuck her together. A father and son fuck-fest for the mudblood.”

“Shut up! Shut up! Help!” Lucius screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?” Healer Sebastian had been just outside the door.

“He’s back. That thing whatever it is was back in my room just now.” Lucius pointed to the other side of the room.

“But, Auror Potter warded this room himself,” Healer Sebastian said in complete confusion.

“I don’t know how but he got in. You’ve got to stop him. He means to harm Miss Granger.”

“I’ll call Auror Potter at once.”

Within minutes Harry appeared in Lucius’ room. He used his wand to ‘trace’ the possible presence of others in the room. “Lucius is right, I’m afraid,” he said to Healer Sebastian. “Someone else was in this room. And, they knew how to get through my wards.”

“H…h…how’s that p…possible?” Lucius sputtered holding on to Sebastian’s hands.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know. But I do know there’s one other thing I can do and it’s a gift from a former Dark Lord.”

“Mr. Potter! Don’t even think of using dark magic here!” Healer Sebastian warned.

Harry laughed. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. The truth is when Riddle tried to murder me as a baby, he inadvertently transferred some of his abilities to me. The main thing is that I can speak Parsletongue.” Harry said the word as if it was absolutely natural.

“Yes, yes, I remember Draco telling me about the incident in second year when you spoke the tongue in school, completely unaware you were doing so.”

“Yes, and so I’m going to ward your room using Parsletongue, which means only another wizard or witch who speaks the language can pull down the wards.

And, as far as I know, I’m the only one left in wizard England who can. So, here goes.” Harry lifted his wand, closed his eyes and spoke a series of strange pops and clicks and a preponderance of the letter ‘s’ as he warded Lucius’ room.

Lucius and his healer sat in awe of Harry’s unusual prowess with the ancient, mystical language only associated with dark wizards like Voldemort.

“Well, that’s done. No one’s breaking through these wards but me. You’re safe Mr. Malfoy.”

“Thank you, Harry. Thank you so much!”

Harry smiled. He was his ‘old’ self again. “Not at all. And now, I have to get home or my wife’s going to give me a few choice words for missing supper. Take care.” With that he swept out of the room.

“Remarkable young man,” Healer Sebastian said. “You’d think with all the horrible things that happened to him that he would be a thoroughly unpleasant fellow. But, he’s just the opposite.”

“Yes. He’s remarkable indeed,” Lucius marvelled.  
#

Night fell over London. A deep fog slithered its away across the streets, enveloping the city in a heavy, white mist. The cloaked figure stepped across the street and faced the entrance to St. Mungo’s. It felt for the wards to Lucius’ room. It’s time. Enough games. I’ll kill him tonight and get rid of this scum once and for all. But as it thought the words, it felt something completely different.

The wards had been altered. Nooooo! It couldn’t break through. As it waved a wand in the air over and over again, nothing happened. The wards remained in place. Lucius’ room was enshrined in something it didn’t recognize. And now it couldn’t do exactly as it pleased. But, I have to do it here, once he’s in Malfoy Manor, I can’t break through. The figure slinked away knowing it was beaten. But, it also knew there were all kinds of ways to get to a certain young witch whose wards wouldn’t be quite so powerful.


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the cloaked figure and Hermione duel. Hermione ends up in hospital. Lucius reacts. Rons goes MIA and the Weasley family is frantic. Draco takes charge of a sticky situation between Lucius and Hermione.

Chapter 5  
Flashes of bright pink and fuschia emanated from Hermione’s wand. She battled the intruder with ferocious energy. Each one tried to out-duel the other, sending one curse after another. Hermione jumped to her left hoping to catch her opponent in the leg, but they were too fast. They feigned to the right and moved to the left expecting her move. Cobalt blue light shot out of the intruder’s wand. Even its hefty black cloak didn’t deter them from battling Hermione with gregarious delight.

  
“You can’t last forever, little witch,” it screamed.

“Just watch me,” Hermione yelled. She had no idea who the cloaked figure was. Ten minutes before they had blasted through her wards and her front door with a brilliant assault. Hermione grabbed her wand and dueled with every ounce of energy she could muster. A burst of energy radiated from her opponent’s wand and hit her in the left foot. “Owwwww!” she screeched. “You’ll pay for that.”

Hermione jumped onto her coffee table thankful for the fact that it was solid pine and tried to gain some advantage. A wail of anguish emanated from the intruder when she impacted with his right shoulder. “You’ve under-estimated me, whoever the hell you are!” She continued using the table as a space to try and hit her opponent high up. Eventually, her efforts were rewarded as she cracked pink lightning right through his mask.

“Noooo!” The voice was now decidedly male – deep and furious.

Hermione used the moment to strike a decisive blow back at his right shoulder. She hit the mark, but before she could stop him, he disapparated in a blaze of light and movement. The young witch eased herself down from the table and saw the damage to her foot. Initially, she thought it had been just a tiny hit. But, now lines of blood spewed out onto her carpet. Hermione pulled off her blouse and wrapped up her foot. She grabbed a sweater from a nearby chair and headed straight to St. Mungo’s.

#

Harry and Draco paced about the hall outside of Lucius’ room. The older wizard was on a walk about the hospital as ordered by his healer to begin strengthening his injured leg.

“You should really tell him, after all you’re the Auror,” Draco said hoping he’d made his point.

“Yeah, but he’s your dad and I think it would be better coming from you.” Harry leaned against the nearby wall for support.

“No, I don’t think so,” Draco said, finally out of arguments.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Well, that’s not an argument.”

“Okay. I don’t want to.”

“Don’t want to what?” Lucius asked as he limped slowly up the corridor aided by a wooden cane.

“Uh, Harry has something to tell you,” Draco blurted, his face crimson with embarrassment.

“Coward!” Harry added. “Fine, Mr. Malfoy we’ve got a piece of bad news – well sort of bad news – but it’s going to be okay.”

Lucius rolled his eyes. “Just say it already!”

“Hermione was attacked. But, she’s going to be fine.”

“What? What the hell happened?” Lucius limped back into his room followed by his son and the young Auror. He laid back on his bed and propped some pillows behind his back.

“We don’t know, but we think the same cloaked figure who’s been in your room blasted into her home.” Harry shrugged as if out of answers.

“This has gone too far,” Lucius complained. “Now look, it was one thing when it was just in my room. But now, whomever this bastard is, they’re out in the community doing damage.” Lucius paused to compose himself. “I’m not angry with you Harry, but this is unacceptable.”

“I agree. But, we can’t stop every single person in the community from doing horrible things. They’re going to happen.”

“I realize that. In any case, how’s Hermione; is she alright?”

“She’s going to be fine. Her left foot got hit pretty hard but they’ve got a cast on it now and she’ll even be able to walk with it.”

“Where is she?”

“Now?”

“No, tomorrow! Yes, where is she now?”

“In Triage. They want her to stay the night just to make sure.”

Lucius slowly eased himself out of bed and picked up his cane. “Take me there!”

“Dad, you shouldn’t be walking so much. You’ll strain your leg.”

Lucius inhaled deeply. “So be it. I want to see her now!” He ignored the two younger wizards, brushed past them and then waited for them just outside the door. “I’m waiting!”

Harry and Draco complied. As they headed down the corridor, Harry whispered: “Boy it doesn’t take much to set him off does it?”

“I don’t know. When it comes to Hermione, well…she’s a sensitive topic. He really has a lot of respect for her.”

“Stop whispering back there.” Lucius continued limping through the corridor to the nearest elevator when he was stopped by Healer Sebastian.

“Lucius, I thought you did your walk already.” The stern healer flashed an annoyed look.

“I’m going to see Ms. Granger. She’s been injured.”

“I see. Why don’t I get a wheelchair?” Sebastian turned to leave but Lucius grabbed his shoulder.

“The day I need a wheelchair will be my last day on earth. Now then, we’re wasting time.”

Sebastian stood by shaking his head as the three wizards headed in.

#

Hermione laid back on her pillows a sad expression on her face. A queasy feeling in her stomach reminded her of a war fought not so long ago. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply to induce a feeling of calm. She heard the three wizards enter her room and knew another battle would be fought.  
Lucius pulled up a chair and sat by her bedside. He took one of her hands in his own. “Hermione, are you alright?” He kept his voice soft and calm.

Hermione beamed. “I’m fine. More annoyed than anything. That brute had the gall to blast down my front door and attack me in my house! I can’t wait to find out who the hell he is and give him a piece of my mind.”

“I wouldn’t want to be that bloke when it happens,” Draco whispered to Harry.

“Me either,” Harry admitted.

“Now then, I think the best thing for you is to come and stay at the manor with Draco and myself. The wards will keep you safe and I’ll see to it that…”

Hermione shook her head vigorously. “Thank you Lucius, but no. I’m not running from my own house.”

Lucius’ face fell. He had honestly believed Hermione would jump at his offer. “I don’t understand; you’re vulnerable there.”

“Not to mention you don’t have a front door,” Harry added. “And you live in a Muggle area, Hermione. We can’t reattach it magically.”

“I imagine your neighbours are pretty curious about now,” Draco added.

“Thanks for all your input. Draco and Harry, can you leave Lucius and I alone please?”

The two young wizards shrugged their shoulders but knew better than to argue with the witch.

“Hermione, what’s the matter?” Lucius’ voice held a bitter edge.

“Lucius, please remember that I was tortured in that house. It’s not exactly my favourite place to be. I’m sorry to be so blunt.”

Lucius nodded his head. But, the kindness of a few moments ago completely disappeared. “Hermione, we were all tortured in that house. I deeply regret you were tortured that night, but try to understand that I was tortured almost every night. And not just by Voldemort either. The other Death Eaters took out their wrath on me when others weren’t around. It was quite the game with them. And, those scars will never heal.” The emphatic, angry tone in his voice caught Hermione by surprise.

“Lucius, I didn’t mean to…”

“Never mind,” he said his palm up to silence her. “Obviously my home isn’t good enough for you. Silly of me, really. I thought we had become friends.” He winced as he stood, but quickly regained his composure.

“We are friends,” Hermione insisted.

“No, I don’t think so,” Lucius argued. “We’re solicitor and client. Nothing more. I’m sorry if I’ve bothered you. I’ll let you get your rest.” He limped out leaving Hermione completely confused.

She lay on her bed with a cacophony of emotions flooding her mind. The wizard’s exit harkened back to his behaviour in past years. His brusqueness and clipped tones reminded her of the proud wizard and his need to somehow maintain a sense of his dignity. She recalled how he described the way people insulted him in public, making him almost a prisoner in his own home, or else his only escape would be Muggle London. Hermione knew instinctively she had hurt his feelings; bruised a fragile ego.

Now, she envisioned a reality she’d always wanted to avoid – the truth of what had taken place in Malfoy Manor on all those nights when Voldemort and Bellatrix were in control. A power-mad wizard and an insane witch whipping Lucius into submission both emotionally and with their wands. Somehow she knew he had been tortured but now the truth of what he had endured caused bile to build into her throat. She wanted to purge herself of the image of Lucius’ naked back (or body) exposed to Voldemort’s wand, whipping him over and over again. Her thoughts were interrupted by Draco who sauntered quietly into the room.

“Hermione, can I have a word?” He walked to the edge of her bed, pulled up a chair and sat down in carefully measured movements. “I know we’re just getting to know each other as adults and our friendship is relatively new, but I need to say something.”

“Alright,” Hermione agreed, a sick feeling pulsing inside her throat.

“You really hurt my father’s feelings just now. I know you didn’t mean to but your refusal hurt him deeply. So many people have dismissed and insulted him since the war. But, he honestly believed you would be different. Staying at our home would be the ultimate respect to him. I don’t know how to say it any different. And, trust me, those rooms you remember no longer exist. The manor is really different now. Much smaller. Much more livable. But, you have nothing to fear there except the fear of your own memories.”

Hermione slumped deeper into her pillows. “I feel so ashamed. I’m sorry. Of course, I’ll stay there.”

Draco shook his head. “No, Hermione. Don’t do it out of guilt. That’s not a good idea.”

Hermione took Draco’s hands and folded them into her own. “I’m not. I’m doing it because I want to. The moment your father left my room, I knew I’d hurt his feelings. Please tell him how sorry I am. I’ll be glad to stay at the manor, but I don’t want anyone making a fuss.”

Draco’s face shined. “That’s great! He’ll be so happy. I’ll go tell him now. And as to making a fuss – of course we’ll make a fuss!” Draco practically jumped out of his chair and ran off.

#  
Harry walked into the Burrow and hugged his favourite brother-in-law, George. The lanky, red-haired wizard had formed a deep and abiding friendship with Harry since the death of his twin Fred in the war. Initially, no one knew how George would cope. The two brothers meant everything to each other. Harry’s winnings in the Triwizard Cup had been the funds they needed to fulfill their dream and open up their shop. The famous shop with the red-headed wizard on top had become one of the most popular sites in Diagon Alley, and the money had been repaid a long time ago. As Ron and Harry had drifted apart, George and Harry had grown closer.

“Hello favourite brother-in-law,” George quipped as he munched on a piece of apple pie.

“George, I’m your only brother-in-law,” Harry laughed. “Now turn over some of that pie.”

George playfully covered it with his hands and laughed when he let go. “By the way, Harry, what’s up with my ridiculously inept brother, Ron?” George shoved another piece slathered with vanilla ice cream into his mouth.

Harry cut himself a generous piece and sat down next to George. “What do you mean?”

“I mean no one has seen him in two days.”

“He hasn’t been here?” Harry’s voice dropped.

George blinked and put down his fork. “No, he hasn’t. I know you’ve been busy but I rather thought you worked together. Still, no one’s heard from him and you know my Mom, she’s frantic.”

“George, I thought you knew. I had to suspend Ron for inappropriate behaviour and other serious breaches of Auror protocols two days ago.”

A gloomy expression took hold of George. “No, I didn’t know. None of us did. He’s obviously scarpered off in shame.”

“Oh shit!” Harry said with an audible gasp. “I knew he took it hard but I assumed he’d come here. I’ve barely been home myself but I thought I’d come by and see how everyone was.”

George stood up and paced about. “This is really shitty, Harry. We’ve got to find him.”

“I’ll put a few Aurors on it right away.”

George nodded and grabbed Harry’s shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to do that.”

“You’re not angry with me?” Harry asked his face turning a deep crimson.

“No! In fact, I’m amazed he’s lasted this long. Still, we’ve got to find him before he hurts himself.”

#

Draco walked into his father’s hospital room and saw the older wizard lying in bed looking lonely and deep in his sorrow. “Dad, I’ve got some good news,” Draco said hoping to brighten him up.

Lucius stared at Draco almost unwilling to hear. “What would that be?” he sniffed in his old haughty voice.

“Hermione’s going to come stay with us.”

Lucius’s mood changed instantly. “Really? How did that happen?” He patted the side of his bed for Draco to sit near him.

“I simply told her it was the best way to go about things,” he lied. “And, the two of you could work on your case while you both recovered. She just hadn’t thought it through.” Draco smiled believing he had fooled his father.

Lucius fell back onto his pillows. “I would rather you respected me enough to tell me the truth.” He offered Draco the icy stare which he had used to intimidated people in days gone by.

“Dad, that look doesn’t work with me anymore,” Draco laughed. “Okay. I told her she’d hurt your feelings, but honestly, she already felt that way.”

“You used guilt?” Lucius drawled in that old tone of his.

“No more than you would. And, by the way, that ‘voice’ is so out of date.” Draco smiled obviously pleased with himself. “In any case, she already wanted to change her mind. So, don’t fight it.” Draco stared as Lucius fought a battle within himself. The man he used to be was somehow still on standby mode waiting to take control. But, the man Lucius wanted to be fought side by side with that proud part of him which had been so purposefully indoctrinated into an ancient pureblood culture.

Lucius blew out a heavy sigh. He nodded quietly. “You’re right. That voice is a part of me which somehow still wants to be the Lucius of “old”; manipulating, controlling, telling people instead of asking them and…”

Draco placed an arm around his father’s shoulders. He alone understood the price his father paid for admissions such as these. The man had been born and bred to be the pinnacle of his world. Everyone had expected Lucius Malfoy to be the most powerful man in his community. He wouldn’t seek public office. That was too tedious for him. Instead, he would wield power with the extraordinary amount of money he had stored in his vaults. Lucius’ influence would be felt everywhere and the purebloods would be the height of magical society, as they believed it was their throne to sit on. The gods and goddesses of magical England. Then a Muggle-born wizard came along and stole that throne from him, humiliated him, used him, tortured him, and caused a crash of a downfall such as their community had never witnessed before. No one had ever fallen as far or as hard as Lucius Malfoy.

  
The once domineering man who disdained people with a haughty sniff of his prominent nose sat shame-faced in a hospital bed, grateful for his son’s comforting arms. “You’re right, Draco. I’m elated she’s changed her mind. Please contact JoJo and have him prepare a suite for Hermione.”  
“Sure.” Draco kissed his father on the cheek and left.

Lucius sighed. He understood fully for the first time that this was his life now; grateful for any scraps of kindness people would deign to show him. He knew at heart however that Draco was coming around, and that gave him more hope than anything.

  
#

Molly and Arthur shouted so loud Harry’s ears began to hurt.

“How could you let this happen,” Molly shouted.

“I would’ve thought better of you,” Arthur screamed.

“He relies on you,” Molly screeched.

“He’s not as smart as you. You need to help him,” Arthur yelled.

“Oy! Shut it!” Ginny howled as she entered. “Give it a rest.” She rescued her husband with a fierce hug of love and loyalty.

“Thanks,” Harry whispered.”

“No problem,” she whispered back. “Now look, you two, Harry had to do it. Ron was out of control; running around demanding discounts in stores for being an

Auror and a war hero. He would shove people around and he never closed any of his cases. So, give Harry a break!”

Arthur and Molly both slumped down on the nearby sofa. “I had no idea it was that bad,” Arthur said.

Molly just shook her head and mumbled something about “being a blithering idiot.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “It had to be done. We’ll find him. Don’t worry.”

#

Night fell on London. A punishing rain poured down. A frigid chill permeated the air heavy with the dampness of the downpour. Ron shivered as he sat on a park bench even with a drying charm over him. He had nowhere to go. Every ounce of him wanted to run back and beg Harry’s forgiveness. Ron knew he had to find a way to work back into Harry’s good graces. He quickly disapparated to The Leaky Cauldron. Ron strolled inside and paid for a room. At least he’d be dry and safe. He ordered some food and sat down at a solitary table in the back corner. A waiter brought him a hearty vegetable soup with bread, warm from being just out of the oven. He knew he had to make this right, find a way to show everyone that he wasn’t just Harry’s sidekick. Ron flinched as a familiar pain seared at the back of his head. For a moment, he couldn’t see out of his right eye, but his sight quickly returned. A momentary feeling of dread passed and he returned his attention to his soup. Somehow, some way he was going to make this right.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is about "connecting some of the dots", especially around Ron. Lucius and Hermione continue to struggle with their feelings. But, Draco experiences a moment of sheer joy and embarks on a very new journey. Lucius and Hermione prepare to live together (sort of) at Malfoy Manor which is now more a manageable country house.

Chapter 6  
Lucius lay awake long into the middle of the night. His eyes wide open in terror, he couldn’t stop the words repeating over and over again in his head. “What have I done? What if something happens to her?” He couldn’t arrive at any logical conclusion for why he’d invited her into his home. “Perhaps I’ve gone mad? Maybe the Dark Lord drove me insane and I just didn’t know it until now. Maybe I’m here for my mind and not my leg?” Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! He screeched inside his mind. “What have I done? What have I done?”

#

Hermione Granger lay on her bed unable to read or do anything but think over and over again what possessed her to accept Lucius Malfoy’s invitation. “I’ve gone insane! People will start throwing things at ME in Diagon Alley. They’ll call me a Death Eather’s whore! What do I do?” Hermione began to breathe rapidly. A stinging sweat ran down her neck, shoulders and spine. She shivered and wrapped herself in her arms. Even her books weren’t comforting her now. Then Hermione remembered that Harry was present when the invitation was made. There’s no way he would endanger her life – ever. She closed her eyes and began to relax. A sense of calm flowed through her body and she finally fell asleep. 

#  
Ron woke up with another blinding headache. He stumbled through his morning routine, but barely had an appetite for breakfast. As he sipped some tea and managed a few bites of his toast, a deep pulse shot through and blinded his left eye. “Ouch!” he screamed. Ron covered his left eye with his hand and rushed back up to his room. He gathered his things, rushed back downstairs and jumped into the floo. “St. Mungo’s,” he screamed. 

Ron staggered into St. Mungo’s unable to fully explain what had been happening to him. He only knew something was terribly wrong. As he lay on a Triage bed he heard a familiar voice. “Hermione?” he said quietly. “Is that you?”

“Ron? Is that you?” She quickly hopped onto her crutches and hobbled into the area next to hers and found Ron lying there. “What happened to you?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said in a confused voice. “You?”

“I was attacked in my house. He hit my foot.”

“Who did?”

“I don’t know. He wore a mask.”

“Sheesh, this is weird,” he laughed.

“Are you okay?” she asked in that concerned voice of hers. 

“I don’t know. I’ve been getting these blinding headaches, and now I can’t see out of my left eye. I just haven’t felt myself in ages.” Ron’s face fell. His skin looked pallid and his shoulders sagged with the weight of his worry. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Healer Sebastian strolled in. “Well, well, two famous patients in one week,” he smiled. “Now then, Mr. Weasley, what seems to be the matter?”

Ron related a long series of symptoms from headaches to confusion, to poor memory and a tendency to get angry and irritated at everyone. 

“Hmmmm. I see. When did this begin?”

“I think it happened about three months ago. Well, it could be more.” 

“Wait a minute!” Hermione interjected. “Isn’t that when you fell off your broom in that Quidditch game? You hit your head really badly.”

“Uh, yeah, you might be right,” Ron said in a dejected voice. “I haven’t been able to play since. I can’t seem to organize anything in my mind. It’s all a jumble up there.”

“I see,” the healer said. “Mr. Weasley, I think you’re talking about a serious concussion. Perhaps even a head injury, which unfortunately, we don’t know a lot about.”

“But Muggle medicine can help,” Hermione offered. 

The healer nodded in agreement. “Yes, Ms. Granger, you might be right about that. In any case, let us contact your family so you have some support.”

“No!” Ron yelled. “I don’t want them here. They’ve been horrible to me.”

The healer and Hermione shared a knowing glance. “Alright then son, it’ll be okay. Not to worry. How would you like some tea and biscuits?”

Ron nodded in an almost child-like way.

“Fine, I’ll see that someone brings them for you. I’ll be back soon.” 

“It sounds like a really serious head trauma,” said Hermione once they were out of Ron’s room. “I’m not a healer or a doctor, but those symptoms really worry me.”  
“Me to, Ms. Granger. Me too.”  
#

Healer Sebastian progressed on his rounds until he arrived at Lucius’ room. “Well, Lucius, you’re looking much better. I hear you can practically walk your way around the entire hospital,” he laughed. 

Lucius smiled. “Yes, my leg is definitely much better. When can I go home?”

“I don’t see why you can’t go home today. I’ll sign your release papers within the hour. I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable at the manor.”

“Definitely. Although, I don’t know how I’m going to manage all those stairs. It’s damned inconvenient.”

“Most inconvenient. Well, it’s something you’ll have to get used to. You’ll need to apparate very carefully without disrupting your leg. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. And, Draco will be there to be helpful won’t he?”

“Yes, he will. Along with Ms. Granger who will recuperate at our home. Her house still hasn’t been repaired.”

“I see. That’s very nice of you. Good to see people getting along. Very nice indeed. Well, good luck with your recuperation. Remember, keep doing your exercises, don’t push the leg too hard, rest when you need to, and take up Ms. Granger’s offer to find a good physiotherapist. It will do you a world of good.”

“Thank you for your excellent care. One moment though if you don’t mind. Why is it our world doesn’t have physiotherapists? It makes no sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. Unfortunately, the magic world has always eschewed the world of Muggle medicine and science. Healers are taught to work on magical maladies – problems with spells and so forth. The truth is, we don’t learn half of what we really need to learn. We need to expand our training. A lot of people came out of the war severely damaged – physically and emotionally. The problem is, we can’t help them – not completely. It’s a sad fact of our limited training.”

Lucius appeared as if a light bulb had clicked on over his head. “What about expanding the training program? Why can’t we do that?”

“We could. But who’s going to pay for it? The Ministry doesn’t have that kind of money. We would need to spend at least another year or two in training, plus bring in Muggle specialists, etc. It’s a challenging proposition.”

“I’ll pay for it!” Lucius said. 

“That’s a lot to take on, Lucius.”

“Please, go with me to speak to Minister Shacklebolt. If we go together, we present a much stronger case.”

“I would be delighted! I’ll put together the requirements and we can set a time. This is wonderful. Truly wonderful. Thank you.” The healer shook Lucius’ hand vigorously before leaving, but could be heard muttering out in the hallway. “What a truly wonderful morning this is!” 

#

Harry padded quietly into the area in Triage where Ron was being cared for. “Hey Ron, how are you feeling?”

“Shitty. I’m sorry I’ve let you down Harry. I didn’t mean to. Maybe I’m just not cut out to be an Auror.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned away. 

“Look, let’s not worry about that now. Why don’t we wait and find out what the healer says. 

“They already told me,” Ron spat. “I’m useless. I’ve got some sort of head injury from that stupid Quidditch fall.” He scrunched up his face and folded his arms across his chest. 

“Ron, I know about head injuries and they can get better,” Harry tried to console his friend in the best way he knew how. 

“I’m not stupid, Harry. I know something’s wrong up here.” He slapped his hand on his head. 

Harry stared down at his shoes. They’d been through so much together it was hard to believe a fall from a broom would end Ron’s career. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Ron shrugged. “Dunno. It didn’t really get bad until a few weeks ago. And I guess I just didn’t pay any attention to it.” Ron blinked hard. His red-rimmed eyes and sullen expression tore at Harry. 

“We’ll figure this out, Ron. We will. You’ll see.” He patted Ron’s shoulder but his friend just turned away again.

“Just leave me alone, Harry. Right now, I want to be alone.” 

“Okay, sure. I’ll check in tomorrow.”

“Whatever.” Ron’s voice sounded weak and defeated. 

Harry shuffled out of Ron’s room his heart breaking for a friend who had stood by him for so long. As he eased along the hospital corridor another friend appeared. 

“Hey, Harry,” Hermione said brightly. 

“Hermione! I see you’re doing alright on those crutches. Not surprised though. No one can keep you down for long.”

She laughed in her girlish way. Harry leaned forward and gave her a warm kiss on the cheek. 

“I’m so glad you’re going to be okay. So, are you taking the Malfoys up on their offer?”

“Yes. I think it’ll be okay don’t you?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. As you know it’s a lot smaller now but still pretty elegant. And, then there’s that indoor pool, and elves attending to your every need!” 

“I’ll have to start a chapter of S.P.E.W. in Malfoy Manor!” she laughed.

“Yeah, well, good luck with that.”

“By the way, have you seen Ron?”

“Just now. He looks terrible and he’s so down on himself.”

“I know. I’m going to do some research on head injury rehabilitation programs in London and see if I can find something for him.”

“Great! That’s fantastic. We can always rely on you.” Harry kissed her cheek again and Hermione blushed. 

“Thanks, Harry. Anyway, I better get going. I’ve got to get all my things together from the house.”

“No problem. I’ve got several Aurors there checking things out so you’ll be safe. See you!”

The two friends parted. Hermione made her way back to her room and found Lucius waiting for her. “Hello Lucius, how are you?”

“Good thank-you. I’m being sent home today, and I gather you are as well?”

Hermione thought she detected a slight nervous tone in his voice but tried to put it out of her mind. “Yes I am. I have to go to my house first and then I’ll make my way to the Manor.”

“Will you be alright on your own?” Again that anxious tone. 

“Yes, fine. Why is something wrong?”

The fine mask that Lucius knew how to put into place when necessary formed a film over his face. “Of course, Hermione, everything’s fine. I asked JoJo to prepare the blue guest room for you. It’s a lovely suite with its own bathroom and a lovely, semi-circular balcony over-looking the rose garden. I think you’ll be very comfortable there.”

“I'm sure I will. Now then, I have my own things to pack. We’ll see you later then?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, and Hermione, I should like to begin work on my case again if you’re feeling up to it.” Lucius smiled eagerly. 

“Of course. I’m absolutely ready to get started. I’ve put other cases on hold to work on yours. But, I honestly think we’ll get you off those charges very soon.”

Lucius beamed with joy. “Delighted to hear that. I look forward to seeing you later.” 

Hermione watched Lucius leave. A feeling sat inside of her, an instinct that she couldn’t put a name to. She couldn’t understand why Lucius had suddenly become so formal with her. She definitely sensed an anxiousness in his voice, a tone of something. Regret? Discomfort? After all, they were only just getting to know each other and now all of a sudden she would be his houseguest. Not to mention the years of ugliness between herself and Draco. She’d said it was in the past, but was it? Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong and wondered if it had to do with the cloaked figure. After all, for some reason it only came after her and Lucius. But it had never attacked him, only her. 

#

Draco smiled nervously as he entered the now familiar bookstore. He’d purchased several books on PTSD and recovery from trauma. Although he didn’t understand everything, especially the technical terms, he knew basically what had happened to him. For the first time since the war, Draco felt as if he truly understood why the nightmares and night sweats persisted. He also knew he had to get help but how to do that was still unclear. A lovely sight greeted him as he walked in, and he was glad for the relief. 

“Hello Draco, how are you?” she asked.

“Good, Charlaine, how are you?”

“I’m well. Here for more books?” She clasped her hands in front of her waiting. 

“Well, the thing is, no. I think I’ve purchased enough books for now.”

“Oh,” Charlaine said in a curious voice. “What brings you here?”

“You,” he admitted. “I was hoping I could convince you to go out with me. Not immediately of course, but sometime, perhaps for a lunch, or dinner, or a coffee or…sorry I’m babbling. I’m just a tad nervous.” Draco pulled at his jacket sleeves and pursed his lips in a tight, awkward smile. 

Charlaine laughed sweetly. “I’d love to go out with you. In fact, I was hoping you would ask.”

“Great! That’s terrific! I’m really glad of it! Well then, ummmm, what about tomorrow evening for dinner?”

“Sure. Do you like Italian? There’s a great bistro nearby.”

“Love Italian. Very much. Really, I do.”

Charlaine blushed at Draco’s awkwardness. There was an emotional honestly to his invitation and his delight. “Sounds good. Why don’t you swing by here  
around 7?”

“Okay, see you then. Bye.” Draco practically flew out the front door of the shop and down the street. He even missed the alley where he usually apparated and continued running down the street like a kid who just received their first bicycle. His face beamed with rapture. The normally pale-faced wizard’s cheeks blushed and glowed a deep scarlet. He jumped in the air and yelled “Woohoo! She likes me!”

Two muggle teens walking towards him crooked their eyebrows. “What a nerd,” they laughed.


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione settles in at Malfoy Manor but her room isn't like anything she was expecting. The cloaked figure makes a realization and Draco prepares for his first date with a Muggle! Lucius behaves very oddly.

Chapter 7  
JoJo flashed a blinding smile of delight as he showed Hermione around the blue guest room. Even though Malfoy Manor had been reduced greatly in size, there were still eight bedrooms, countless number of bathrooms, a living room, a kitchen, informal dining room, formal dining room, a three-story library, an indoor swimming pool, a music room where a grand piano, cello, violin, viola and guitar rested. The grounds hadn’t changed and the luxurious gardens which had been planted over the centuries bore dozens of varieties of Muggle and magical flowers. Floral arrangements in bright hues and subtle shades were scattered throughout. Horse stables were home to a dozen thoroughbred horses and a few magical creatures even Hagrid had never heard of. 

The “blue room” wasn’t a room at all but a grand suite. The Queen-sized four poster bed made of deep mahogany was covered in blue and gold damask bedding with a matching canopy. Egyptian cotton sheets in soft blues lay under the heavy quilt and six pillows lay ready to be laid upon. The solid wood floor was covered with several blue and gold Persian carpets. Opposite the bed was a white marble fireplace with two cobalt blue sofas in front of it. To the left of the bed was a Queen Anne style writing desk with matching chair. A door to the right of the bed led to the bathroom which belonged in a palace and not someone’s residential home. The bathtub was more of a small swimming pool – oval in shape with blue and gold hand-painted Italian tiles in a mosaic with a mermaid theme. The mermaid at the bottom of the pool moved seductively when the water flowed. A tall armoire held Egyptian cotton towels, soaps such as jasmine, rose and lilac, and bathrobes. A blue velvet divan sat to the right of the armoire under the window for relaxing after basking in the delight of the bath. Dozens of lit candles flew above the bath and in various spots around the room. Hermione had never seen anything like it and truly it fit the fantasies many had about this house. 

There were also two armoires for her clothes in the main suite. They were really more room than she needed. And then there was the balcony. Lucius had described it as small, but it was anything but small. The semi-circular balcony measured at least 45 feet in length and the same in depth. A blue sofa sat to one side and a table with four chairs sat on the other end. Hermione felt a bit like Juliette on her balcony the night she first met Romeo. 

A knock at the door pulled Hermione out of her dream-like state and she opened it to find Draco there with a smile as wide as a Cheshire cat. “Hey Draco! Come on in.”

“Thanks.” Draco began pacing about. He mopped the sweat off his brow at least three times before he spoke. “You’ve got to help me. I’ve got a date tomorrow night and I don’t know what the hell to do.” The panic in his voice was obvious but for some reason Hermione couldn’t take him seriously. 

“A date? That’s what’s got you in a knot? Draco, you’ve been on tons of dates before.”

“Not with a Muggle.” He flopped down on one of the sofas in front of the fireplace.  
#

The cloaked figure stood on the edge of Malfoy’s property. He could feel the wards ripple in the wind. They roamed in waves as they watched over the property they had been created to protect almost 1,000 years ago. Undulating up and down the wards sensed everyone and everything that ever tried to breach the property, its home and residents. Not even Voldemort knew how to tear them down and Lucius had had to open them for the Dark Lord to enter. The figure knew this but in his arrogance he believed that he, above all wizards, could breach Malfoy Manor. Over and over again he waved his wand and uttered every curse and spell he’d ever been taught, and a few he found himself in unspeakably dark places. But, the wards didn’t budge. He screamed a woeful sound. Desperate and disheartened he knew he might have missed the opportunity to get his hands on the lovely Ms. Granger. Now, Lucius had her in his clutches and that was unacceptable.  
#  
Hermione was just about to dispense some hopeful advice when Lucius announced himself outside the room. “Come on in,” Hermione said brightly. 

For the first time since she’d seen him back in his cell, Lucius appeared somewhat like his old self. His dress was far more casual but still the appearance of the noble wizard remained. Blond tresses had been shampooed and shaped, navy blue trousers and a crisp white shirt were ironed to perfection, and Hermione caught the scent of his after-shave which carried a hint of jasmine and musk. He even limped with greater authority. The man she met in a holding cell seemed to have disappeared. A measure of his confidence had returned with a self-assured expression on his face and the sense of security of a man in his own home. 

“Do you have everything you need?” he asked politely but with definite emotional distance. 

“Yes, absolutely. This is a gorgeous suite. I can’t imagine ever wanting to leave.” Hermione immediately regretted her words, but they were out there. “I meant it’s a beautiful place to stay.”

“Yes, it’s a lovely room for a lovely guest. I hope you’ll be comfortable here. Dinner is at 7:30 and we’ll eat in the small dining room just down the corridor from the living room. See you then.” He strolled out with an almost decisive step as if he barely needed the cane any longer. 

“Draco, is everything okay with your father?”

“Far as I know. Why?”

“Well, he was so much more personable before. Now, he’s very formal and almost elusive.”

Draco chuckled. “I tried to tell you, Hermione, that’s who he is. When he needs something or someone, he knows how to go about it. For sure, he’s a lot nicer than he was before, and he definitely regrets many of his decisions. But, there’s a part of him that will always be the proud, pureblood wizard, even if he does feel he was indoctrinated into that role. It’s a hard thing to let go of. I know.”

“You’re right. You did say that. Anyway, let’s get to your problem. Who’s the Muggle?”

“This amazing woman I met in a bookstore. Her name’s Charlaine and she’s absolutely gorgeous.” Draco’s grin embraced his entire face. “I’ve met anyone like her. She’s easy to talk to. Very smart. Well read. But, there’s nothing phony or pretentious about her.”

“She sounds wonderful. Where are you going?”

“For dinner to an Italian bistro she really likes.”

“Sounds like a great first date. Just be yourself. What help do you need from me?”

“Are you kidding?” he squeaked. “I know practically nothing about dating a Muggle. What do they like to talk about? Should I tell her I’m a wizard? What should I wear? Do I have to walk her home? I just don’t….”

“Whoa!!!!! Ease down! You’re getting way ahead of yourself. First off; talk about anything you like. No, don’t tell her you’re a wizard. Wear casual clothes – trousers and a nice jumper and yes, walk her home.”

Draco blew out air and dropped his head in his hands. “I’m in way over my head. What if I say something stupid that shows I don’t know her world?”

“Just take it one step at a time and…wait a minute you said tomorrow night?”

Draco’s head popped up. “Yeah why, what’s the matter?”

“That leaves me alone with your dad.” Hermione bit her bottom lip. Her eyes darted back and forth between Draco and the fireplace. “That could be awkward. We’ve never had dinner together.”

“Just tell him you have a headache and need to lie down. That’s what my mom did when she wanted to get away from him.” Draco smiled as if he’d just told a wonderful joke. 

“Thanks,” Hermione said glumly thinking about having dinner all alone with the tall, handsome, sexy wizard. Wait did she just think that? Oh shit – it just got worse.


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Lucius go through a hard time and Lucius re-connects with 'someone' he hasn't spoken to since before the war. Again, please be aware there could be triggers for anxiety, panic attacks and PTSD in this chapter.

Chapter 8  
Hermione smoothed her hair from her forehead and created long, flowing curls with her curling iron. A silk, lilac-coloured blouse with bell sleeves and a v-neckline was accentuated by an amethyst heart on a silver necklace and matching earrings. Form-fitting grey slacks enhanced her figure and she applied just the right amount of soft, mauve eye shadow, navy blue eyeliner and black mascara. Pale pink lipstick served to complete the look. She stepped out of her room only to her someone whispering at her back. 

“Pssssst, Hermione! Pssssst, over here!” 

She turned around to see a frantic Draco waving his hand at her. “You come here. What is it?”

Draco ran towards her, and closed the gap between them so no one could hear. “I just wanted to say that I don’t think either of us should mention I’m dating a Muggle woman tomorrow. I mean, my Dad has changed but I’m not sure how he’ll take this.” 

“Okay, okay, stop worrying.” Hermione pushed him a little further away. “And you’re in my personal space.”

“Oh, sorry.” Draco stepped back. “Heavens, you look fantastic! That’s a great colour on you,” he said in admiration. 

“Thanks. Should we go down now?”

“Sure, do you need a hand?”

“No, I’ve got my crutches. Thanks anyway.”

Hermione couldn’t help but appreciate the irony of the surreal situation. Here was her former school enemy complimenting her and confiding in her. Sometimes it didn’t feel quite real. She couldn’t help but notice how Draco took the steps beside her one by one just in case she should falter. A very slow descent later they managed to make it down the hallway into the information dining. The room had been designed with warmth and beauty in mind. A circular shaped room with an enormous bay window at the front and several skylights above. The round table was stained in a natural white with matching chairs covered in deep velvet crimson seats. A crimson and gold area rug complimented the dining set. Hermione took in the various antique buffets and sideboards which accompanied the dining set, each one filled with expensive, monogrammed china and crystal. Lucius had already sat down and was drinking something he clearly enjoyed. 

“Hope I didn’t hold you up,” Hermione said grateful to finally sit down. 

“Not at all,” Lucius smiled as he watched Draco help her into her chair. “It’s wonderful to finally have you as a proper guest in our home. Shall I pour you some wine? Which do you prefer; red or white?”

“Oh, I’m definitely a red lover.” Hermioned blushed lightly when she realized how that sounded.

Lucius briefly raised an eyebrow, but soon regained composure. “Excellent. Merlot?”

“Perfect.” 

Lucius poured for the three of them and then, just as at Hogwarts the food appeared on their plates. Hermione knew it was JoJo’s cooking they would enjoy. The meal began with a delicate carrot and ginger soup, followed by grilled salmon with rice pilaf and steamed asparagus. An exquisite tiramisu showed up as the desert along with ice wine. Hermione leaned back in her chair feeling completed satiated. 

“My goodness, JoJo could be a world-class chef,” she admired. 

“Hmmmmm, if he wasn’t an elf,” Lucius laughed. “Somehow, I don’t think the Waldorf Astoria is quite ready for a magical creature to cook its food. I can’t imagine the Muggle world could cope with that.”

At his father’s remarks Draco coughed on his wine and quickly covered up by holding his napkin to his mouth. “Went down the wrong pipe,” he lied. 

Hermione snuck a look at him out of the side of her eye and knew how desperate he was to discuss his first Muggle date. 

“Ummmm, Dad, I just wanted you to know that I won’t be here for dinner tomorrow.” 

As unplacable as ever, Lucius showed nothing. “Something come up?”

“I’m getting together with a few friends. Nothing special, but we planned it quite some time ago.”

“Interesting. I seem to recall you saying that you didn’t feel you really had a lot of friends and that this rather bothered you. Did you meet some new people?” Lucius sipped his wine. 

Hermione could feel Draco’s legs vibrating under the table. 

“Mainly people I’ve been working with at the Ministry. We’re trying to be more social.”

“I see. Anyone I know?”

Draco shook his head. “I doubt it.” He drummed his fingers on the tabletop until Hermione stopped him. “Sorry, old habit.” 

“Everything okay son?” The haughty voice disappeared and his genuine concern for his son reappeared in its place. 

“Yeah. Sure. I was going to ask Hermione more about PTSD and how people go about getting help for it. But, uh, I didn’t think it was dinner conversation.”

“Well, that sounds like a conversation for the two of you, so I’ll leave you to it.” Good night. With that, Lucius exited the dining room. 

“That was smooth!” Hermione chuckled. 

“Hey, I’m new at this lying to my father so I can go out with a Muggle woman behind his back sort of thing. Okay? Give me a break!”

Hermione draped an arm about his shoulders. “You need to relax. You’re so hyper!”

“Okay, okay, I know. But this is new territory for me. Really new!”

“I know. But you’ll be okay.” She rubbed his shoulder gently. “Just take it one step at a time.”

“Sure. Okay. Fine.”

Hermione shook her head. He’s going to be anything but fine.  
#  
Lucius poured himself a second successive glass of brandy and swiftly drank it in one gulp. He squeezed his eyes shut and palmed his face with his hands. What have I gotten into? 

“What have I gotten into?” he yelled, grateful for the silencing charm on his suite.

A light chuckle broke him from his self-induced anxiety. “I can tell you.”

Lucius strode over to a painting of a rather aristocratic fellow to the left of his fireplace. “Uncle Louis. We haven’t spoken in ages.”

“Not by my choice. You seemed far too absorbed in self-pity and anger for a decent conversation these past years.”

Lucius huffed. “Not self-pity, but certainly self-anger. I made foolish choices, Uncle Louis, and my family paid dearly for them.”

“Indeed. Let’s talk about nicer things. Like the beautiful Muggleborn witch you’re so very fond of, and which is why you’re drinking that brandy,” he laughed. 

Lucius knitted his brow and placed balled fists on his hips. “What makes you think that…”

“Ha haha! Lucius I love your arrogance. It’s really quite entertaining. But, really, did you think the paintings in the house haven’t noticed a definite spring in your step, despite the cane? And, the fact that you take extra care with your hair and you use that expensive proprietary aftershave you’re so fond of. You haven’t spent that much time on yourself in ages!”

“I’m just taking better care of myself,” he argued. 

“Oh, you really are a stitch, my young nephew. I do miss you and our vibrant conversations, especially when that nasty father of yours wasn’t around. I hated him so!”

“You and me both,” Lucius agreed in a sharp tone. 

“Now then, what are you going to do about the beautiful Miss Granger? She really is delightful – so bright, witty, charming, compassionate and all that fiery energy. My goodness, it makes me wish I was young again.”

“And alive?” Lucius added sarcastically.

“Well that too,” Louis mused. “Yes, being alive would help which is why I want to know what you’re going to do,” he demanded.

“What does it matter to you?”

“I’m your favourite uncle, remember? And you were always my favourite relative. I adored you. You showed so much promise in your youth. And then, that cruel father of yours dragged you off to that monster. And he was, well….a monster!”

“I’m aware.” Lucius said angrily.

“But, he’s gone and life goes on. Back to the lovely Miss Granger.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“No, I’m living vicariously through you. Please tell me you’re not going to let her get away. She’s perfect for you. And, if I might suggest, I think you’re perfect for her. She needs a strong, masculine man – a man who can stand up to her and be her equal.” Louis stared down at Lucius with a devilish grin. 

“Hmmmmmm. I must say, she’s truly wonderful. I’ve been following her career from the moment I met her in Flourish and Blotts many years ago. I was convinced even then that she would be a very important witch in our world.”

“Even though you hated her parents?”

“I didn’t hate them. I just didn’t want to know anything about them. It was foolish and arrogant of me.”

“Yes, it was!” Louis laughed. “But you have an opportunity to change all that. Now, stop drinking and go take her lovely hand and give her a guided tour of the grounds. And, don’t forget the faerie pond. She’ll love that, I’m sure.”

Lucius smiled and laughed to himself. Uncle Louis always had his best interests at heart. He never forgot the day Louis and Abraxus fought over Voldemort. Louis hated him on sight and vowed to have nothing to do with him – ever. Abraxus saw him as the saviour of the magical world. How wrong he was. How wrong I was! Lucius grabbed his cane, left his suite, and went off in search of a young witch he hoped was waiting for something to do.

Lucius strolled about the house until he peered out the living room windows and saw Draco and Hermione strolling together. They were obviously at ease with each other – laughing and talking as if they’d always been close friends. He hung his head for a moment and quickly headed back to his suite. 

“That was a short meeting,” Louis commented.

“You have an awful lot to say for a dead man,” Lucius spat. “Leave me alone.” With that, he walked into his en suite master bath, a grand room with a marble tub large enough to be a pool, a glassed-in shower, marble floors, windows overlooking another garden, a fireplace, and shelves with myriads of potions and lotions for his heart’s desire. Persian carpets covered the floor, crystal chandeliers hung overhead, and silk drapes hung graciously over the windows. He slid into the bath, poured himself another brandy and slipped into just a bit of self-pity for his lonely life. 

#

Late that night the house sunk into darkness when Lucius was woken up with a brutal scream coming from Draco’s room. He knew the sound all too well. He practically flew into Draco’s room where he found his son thrashing about, yelling about the Dark Lord yet again. 

“He’s here!” Draco screeched. “He’s here. He’ll torture us. All of us! He will.” His body drenched in sweat, Draco latched onto his duvet until Lucius could unhook it from his balled fists. 

“Draco, son, he’s not here. It’s a nightmare!” He wrapped Draco’s body in his muscular arms and held him tight. “It’s okay son. He’s gone.”

Draco sobbed and his eyes were wide with terror. “You promise?” he cried in a child-like voice.

“I promise. Hold onto me, son. I’m here.” Lucius slid next to Draco as he rocked and held his son. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finally sees Lucius' memories of the day he was attacked in Diagon Alley. Draco slowly recovers from his nightmares with Hermione's help and friendship.

Chapter 9  
Lucius and Draco woke up entangled in each other. Red-faced, Draco rolled to the other side of the bed and climbed out. He padded quietly to his own bathroom and shut the door. His father understood the gesture and gently moved out of the bed and back into his own suite. 

“Rough night?” Louis remarked.

“You could say that,” Lucius said. 

“I’m sorry Draco’s still going through this. Is there no help for him?”

“Not in our world, I’m afraid. But there may be with a Muggle individual known as a therapist.”

“Then take him there!”

“I plan to; believe me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower.”  
#

Draco strolled into the informal dining room and found Hermione there on her own drinking a steaming hot cup of coffee. “Morning,” he said sheepishly.

Immediately, Hermione bounded up and enfolded him in a huge hug. “Oh, Draco, I know what you’re going through. I’ve been there too. There’s nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. That monster was in this house!” As she smoothed the bangs from his face with a loving touch, Lucius walked in. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” He turned to leave when Hermione laughed. 

“Oh for heaven’s sake. I’m just being a good friend! Get in here.”

Lucius threw his head back and laughed uproariously! “You really are something; bossing me about in my own house. Good for you!” He rubbed his son’s shoulders. “Feeling better this morning?” 

Draco nodded quietly and listlessly took his seat. He tried to smile and offer a brave face, but both Hermione and Lucius knew he was still feeling vulnerable. 

“Lucius, I wonder if you’re okay with Harry coming over today? He said he wanted to look at your memories of that day in Diagon Alley.” She munched on a bowl of fresh fruit and yogurt. 

“Absolutely, I’ll do anything that I can to make this finally go away.” He propped an elbow onto the table and leaned against his arm. “If sharing these memories will help you and Harry, let’s do it immediately.”

“Good! I feel sure that once we know more about that day, the charges will be dropped.”

“Although it leaves the rather sticky question of who did it.”

“A few of Vol…his supporters did get away,” Hermione mused, careful not to use his   
name in front of Draco. 

“Yes, they did. But, let’s not assume it was one of them.” Lucius buttered his toast and spooned raspberry jam on top. 

“Who else?”

Lucius shrugged. “Perhaps it has something to do with both of us, as you were the one who was actually attacked.”

“Hmmmmm. Still can’t figure that one out.”   
#

Harry sat with his head in his hands when Healer Sebastian finally exited Ron’s room. He bolted up and practically grabbed the elderly healer. “Please, tell me good news!” he begged.

The healer shook his head. “I wish I could. I’m afraid I’ve never seen a case like this before and I’ve been doing this work for almost a century. He’s developing new symptoms every day. Today he has a terrible palsy in his hands and feet. It’s even affected his voice. The poor lad can barely speak.”

Harry shook his head. “What the hell’s a palsy?”

“Oh, it’s a tremor. A terrible shaking of the limbs or voice. It doesn’t harmonize with what we thought was a head trauma.”

Harry paced back and forth until he punched the wall. “Damn! This is maddening. Ron’s my best friend and I can’t do a thing for him.” He squeezed his eyes shut to try and calm himself. 

Healer Sebastian offered a kindly arm around Harry’s shoulders. “I daresay you and I are in the same situation. He’s my patient and I can’t do a damn thing for him. I’m sorry Harry, but I have to see other patients.”

Healer Sebastian turned on his heels to leave, but Harry grabbed him by the arm. “But, what about Ron? What will happen to him?”

The healer shrugged. “I don’t know. He may become one of our long-term residents. Sad to say; but it might be true.”

“I don’t accept that,” Harry said his face defiant. 

“I’m sure you don’t want to.” With that, the healer left Harry who stood in the hospital corridor fearful for the young wizard who had saved his life so many times. 

#

The cloaked figure sat on the cold cement outside St. Mungo’s, a satisfied smirk on his face. He blew on his mug of hot tea as a frosty breeze blew by. Raindrops fell at a gradual pace at first, then picked up into a downpour. He pushed himself further onto the stoop under an overhang of some old Muggle shop that was long out of business. Once again he’d eluded any attempts at securing the young wizard’s room. For some reason, they couldn’t seem to figure out just how Potter’s friend had deteriorated so rapidly and in such diverse ways. A glimmer of his yellow teeth and cracked lips slipped through his conceited grin. In his mind, it wouldn’t be long before the lovely Ms. Granger would have to visit her dear friend from the fabled Golden Trio. And when she did…He sipped at his tea and silently delighted in the possibility. 

#

Harry and Lucius stepped into what was quite possibly the smallest room in the newly-formed Malfoy resident. The bowl of a statuesque pensieve glittered with anticipation. As he stared out onto the lawn to see Draco and Hermione walking side by side, he slipped his memory into the magical device. Harry dipped his head in to watch the memory of that day in Diagon Alley.   
#

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to go on this date?” Draco moaned for about the third time. 

“Oh Draco, I can’t believe you’re such a whiner! Sheesh, it’s annoying already.” Hermione turned him around to face her. “Look, I know you had a bad night but this is the best thing for you. Go out and have a great time. She sounds really nice and it’s obvious you like her a lot.”

Draco shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted from side to side. His grimace slowly became a smile. “Okay then. I just wasn’t sure.”

“I know it’s a really big deal but I think you’ll have a great time. And, I wanted to let you know that I spoke with my ex-therapist this morning. She’s open to taking on new clients if you’re still interested.”

Draco beamed with joy. “Really? That’s terrific. Although, I have to say I don’t know a damn thing about this therapy thing. Is it weird? I mean, do they ask strange questions?”

Hermione couldn’t help laughing. “I’m sorry, but you sound just like I did before I went. I was so nervous. But, trust me, it was a wonderful process. It does go slowly however. You won’t be having brilliant insights into your life every time you go. And, there are times when you feel as if you’re not learning anything at all. I always think of it as two steps forward and three steps backward.”

“Why would I want to walk backward?” Draco asked in an innocent voice. 

“Good gracious! Let’s leave therapy for now and talk about your date!”  
#

Harry watched the slither of silver from Lucius’ head become fully formed memories inside the Pensieve. Lucius walked down Diagon Alley’s main street. 

The wizard was nicely dressed in a pair of black robes and trousers to match. He no longer carried his ‘pimp cane’ and gave all the appearance of a regular bloke strolling in the area. Soon, the scene turned nasty. A woman’s shrill voice could be heard. Lucius turned to his right. 

“Death Eater! Traitor! Go home! Go home!”

“No Death Eaters wanted in Diagon Alley an unidentified male voice screeched.” 

Tomatoes splattered on his face and robes. Lucius rubbed them off, nodded his head and continued on towards the street where he would turn off to Gringotts. 

“Go back to your dark lord you bastard!” Harry watched as Lucius turned to his left. The speaker was none other than the owner of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Gilly Henderson stood, hands on hips, his face red with rage. “We don’t want traitors here!”

Another unnamed assailant threw a head of lettuce at Lucius which handed on his right shoulder. Dirty lettuce leaves flew about his robes and face as the wizard tried desperately to flick them off. He finally arrived at the side street to the bank and turned in. A few seconds later Lucius seemed to trip and fell face first onto the brick street. 

Harry pulled his face out of the pensieve and gazed at Lucius. The older wizard looked down at his feet and seemed either unwilling or unable to look Harry in the face. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Harry apologized with the full knowledge that it was the very least he could say.

Lucius shrugged. “You don’t need to apologize Harry. It’s not your fault.”

“No, but we do have a face to focus on. I clearly saw Gilly Henderson as one of the people screaming at you.”

Lucius sighed. “I didn’t remember that. Perhaps it was the bump on my head.”

Harry agreed. “I don’t doubt it. Now then, I have someone in Diagon Alley to visit. Thank you for letting me do that.”

“Harry do you think that’s a good idea? I mean we know he witnessed me there. What else do we need?”

“I need to have a chat with him. He’s a highly respected business owner in the community. If he would stop doing this to you, the others will follow suit.”

Lucius chuckled. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful of your tactics, but you can’t force people to be nice to me.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to laugh. “You under-estimate me Mr. Malfoy.” Harry grinned. “I’ll see myself out.” 

“Remarkable young man, indeed,” Lucius marveled to himself. As he closed the doors to the pensieve he couldn’t help but take another look at Hermione and Draco out on the lawn. He watched as Hermione grabbed Draco into a fierce hug. He remembered Hermione saying they were 'good friends' but he couldn't help but wonder if it was much more.   
#

Harry strolled down North Street, the main street of Diagon Alley. He’d decided to make this trip on his own. One famous Auror was enough for this. Even after all these years people still smiled and waved at him. Some even continued to shake his hand. His status as a hero hadn’t diminished one bit, and his reputation as a highly skilled and fair-minded Auror only added to his reputation. He heaved a sigh as he stepped into the quidditch shop. Harry recalled the first time he’d ever seen a quidditch broom with Hagrid that first time he shopped in Diagon Alley. 

Gilly Henderson was a portly fellow with a handlebar moustache and a receding hairline. “Bless me, it’s my favourite Auror.” He grasped both of Harry’s hands as if he’d just met British royalty. Of course, to him, Harry was just as good as any queen who sat on a muggle throne. “So good to see you. In the market for a new broom? I know how much you love the game, Auror Potter.”

“Not today, thanks. The thing is…”

“See up there?” Henderson pointed to an autographed photo of Harry from his first year at Hogwart’s. “There’s you on your quidditch broom; the youngest seeker in a century!” He bobbed his head up and down as if he’d just said something no one else knew but him. 

“Yes, thanks. That’s great. Mr. Henderson, I’m here to…”

“Gilly, please. There’s no Mr. Henderson here.”

“Fine thank you. I’m here on Auror business actually.”

That one simple phrase transformed the conversation from casual and light to serious and determined. Harry knew how to use the timbre of his voice to create the appropriate atmosphere for the discussion.

“Oh?” Henderson blushed. “I’m not aware I’ve done anything wrong.”

“Not exactly, no.”

“Wh….wh…what d…d.. you mean?” he stuttered. For as much as Henderson admired Harry, he also knew the young Auror had a reputation for getting exactly what he wanted.

“Mr….I mean Gilly, do you recall seeing Lucius Malfoy in Diagon Alley several weeks back? A number of people were screaming and throwing things at him.”

“Oh…I…uh…oh…y…yes….yes I remember.” He hung his head. 

“Gilly, I need something from you.”

“Oh?” He lifted his head and brightened at the thought of doing anything for the wizard who’d killed Voldemort.

“Yes. You see Mr. Malfoy was attacked that day. Brutally. Someone tripped him on his way into Gringott’s and stole his wand. He has subsequently had to be treated at St. Mungo’s for a concussion.”

“But, Auror Potter, I…I… would…would…never…never do such a thing,” he sputtered.

“I know that. I would never imagine you doing such a thing either. But you did see him that day didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” he admitted.

“And you’re willing to give me a formal statement to that matter?”

“Of course. Of course, I will. Whatever you need!”

“Good. You give me that signed statement and I’ll forget the fact that you screamed at him that day. You see, in doing that, you encourage others to do the same. Now, I know you don’t mean to. Because essentially you’re a good fellow. And I could actually use your help with this.” Harry smiled knowingly. He’d asked for many favours over the years and knew exactly how to frame his requests. “I think if you, as one of the most respected business owners in Diagon Alley would stop doing this, then the others would stop doing it also. The fact is, we don’t want to have to place Aurors on guard in Diagon Alley, as that wouldn’t be good for business. Don’t you agree?”

“Completely!”

In that moment Harry knew he’d caught the fish. The trap had been set and Gilly had stepped right into it. Silently, Harry felt inordinately pleased with himself. Although a part of him disliked having to trick people like this, he needed the signed statement, and he wanted Lucius to be able to walk freely in Diagon Alley. He’d achieved both in one simple step. “Thank you Gilly. I’m so pleased you’re on board with this. You’re really helping the Auror Office so much.”   
He shook Gilly’s hand and gave him the famous ‘Potter smile’, before leaving.

Gilly watched him go, his face full with glee. One would think he’d just received the Order of Merlin instead of having to sign a statement for the Auror Office and be nice to Lucius Malfoy in front of everyone else. But, that never occurred to Gilly; not for a single moment. Such was the aura of Harry Potter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco goes on a date as Lucius and Hermione are together alone for the very first time.  
> Please review!

Hermione shook her head as Draco checked and re-checked himself in her bedroom mirror. “For heaven sakes, Draco, just go already. You're going to be late!”

He glanced at his watch, hugged Hermione and yelled as he bolted from her room. “Wish me luck!” Draco bounded down the stairs and practically slammed into his father in his rush for the door. 

“Watch where you're going,” he cautioned.

“Oh yeah, sorry. But I've gotta run.” For the first time in his life Draco didn't pause to explain or even check with his father about his comings and goings. “Have a good evening!” he said as he flew out the door. 

Lucius leaned against the door frame and his cautious mood transformed immediately as Hermione strolled down the stairs. He deeply appreciated the fact that she made a determined effort with her appearance, especially at dinner. This evening she wore a simple short sleeved black dress which fell just above her knees complemented by a white sweater around her shoulders. A silver necklace and matching earrings gave her ensemble a classic look. “You look lovely,” he said as he offered her his arm. “I thought you might like a change. JoJo prepared a table for two on the terrace outside the living room. He added a warming charm to make sure we're comfortable.”

“Sounds nice,” she agreed. 

The two walked outside and took their seats. Immediately, Hermione felt a sense of panic rise inside of her. She'd never really been alone with Lucius for any length of time except for their first visit when he'd been put into custody. The thought of an entire evening together increased the tension she felt and a heavy knot formed inside her stomach. A band wormed its way across the back of her head, and she worried that a migraine would come on to spoil the entire evening. 

“Hermione, are you alright?” Lucius asked for the third time. 

She had been so immersed in her own stressful mind she hadn't even heard him. “What? Yes! Fine. Of course, I'm fine.” 

“Are you sure? You look pale and that's saying something coming from me.”

She laughed until she realized he'd been completely serious. “Oh, it's probably the cool night air.” She brushed her hands across her cheek and felt the heat of her skin. 

#  
Draco and Charlaine walked arm in arm into the quaint Italian restaurant decorated with red and white checked tablecloths, candles in wine bottles with wax dripping down the sides, waiters who bore trays laden with antipastao, pasta dishes, and luscious desserts. The lights had been turned down to create a warmth and ambiance which spoke of mystery and romance. They took their tables and Draco immediately wondered if he shouldn't have taken a calming potion of some kind. He felt the sweat run down his back, a small twitch in one eye and his legs bounced underneath the table. As he peered across the table, Charlaine smiled at him with a sweetness which opened his terror-stricken heart. 

“I'm glad we're here together,” she said as she took one of his hands. 

“Me too. You chose a fantastic place,” he said as he admired the mahogany furniture, stained glass windows and renaissance art which decorated the walls. 

“Am I making you nervous?” she asked in a concerned voice.

“What? No! Why would you ask that?” He grabbed a breadstick from the basket and snapped it in half. Bread crumbs flew into his face and he frantically wiped them off. “I'm having a great time.”

“Good. I'm glad. You know, I realize we don't know that much about each other. I remember you told me that you're in a family business of sorts. What do they do?” She sipped at a glass of ice water. 

“Well, we do a few things which...” Draco gave a silent thanks for the waiter who offered a polite interruption.”

“Good evening,” he said with a toothy smile. “Please, let me tell you about our specials this evening.”

“Yes, please do!” Draco said in the hopes that he was behaving exactly as any Muggle man might do on a first date. He too picked up his glass of ice water and proceeded to spill it on his suit jacket. 

#  
Hermione delighted in the evening meal JoJo had prepared for the two of them: chicken breasts in wine sauce, potatoes au gratin, and steamed carrots. So lost in her thoughts, once again she barely heard Lucius speak to her. 

Finally, he laid down his knife and fork and reached for her. “Hermione.”

“Yes?” she answered as she crossed and uncrossed her legs, sipped at her wine and eventually took his hand. 

“Am I upsetting you in some way? Is this uncomfortable for you?” his eyes softened with genuine tenderness. 

Hermione breathed a heavy sigh. “It's not uncomfortable, and of course you haven't upset me. It's me. I've always been a bit of an anxious person. Sometimes I hide it well, but other times, not so much. During my school years it was easier for me because I dove into my studies. But now, as an adult, I find it harder to be with my thoughts and feelings. There are times when they overwhelm me. I also over-think everything and am not nearly as confident as I appear to be.”

Lucius laughed quietly. “Hermione, no one is as confident as they appear to be. I know the name Voldemort is probably the last one you ever want to hear about but even he struggled with horrible doubts and fears. Of course it wasn't obvious to most people and he hid it under his fits of viscious cruelty. But, underneath he was just a scared boy who had been abandoned all those years ago”

“Just like Harry said to him at the end,” she mused. 

“Exactly. He'd never known love. And, he had no capacity for love. Because of that, he didn't understand the power of love. That killed him in the end as much as anything else.”

“That's interesting, although I have to admit I never thought I'd feel sorry for Lord Voldemort.”

Lucius chuckled. “I didn't. I don't. But I do feel sorry for all those children out there just like him who will never know love. I know I didn't get much of it as a child but I did get enough to understand it and recognize its importance.”

“Would you want to get married again? I mean – do you want to find love?”

“More than anything. Don't you? What else is there?”

They stared into each others' eyes. Stars glittered above as the night enveloped them. Willow trees heavy with age swayed in the wind and the leaves of an oak tree rustled close by. Lucius covered Hermione's small hand with his own. For several minutes they sat with each other in that quiet way, not speaking, but simply allowing the moment to gently hold them together. 

The heaviness and sadness which had devastated Lucius' life began to drift away. He felt a lightness in his heart he'd never known. 

Hermione allowed herself to release her need for inner chatter and constant decision-making to exist with Lucius in that space and time, and she'd never felt a greater sense of peace or joy. 

#  
Draco returned to their table with a rather sheepish expression on his face. He had felt foolish on other occasions, but not quite as much as he did tonight. “I'm really sorry about that. I can't believe I was so clumsy.”

Fortunately, Charlaine was a forgiving sort and paid little attention to his foibles. “Not to worry. It happens. Why don't we order? They've got fantastic food.” 

He agreed and they called the waiter back, gave their order and soon returned to an easy-going conversation that caught Draco by surprise. “I find your studies really fascinating,” he said with all honesty. “I never really paid much attention to the subject before you told me about it.” He sipped at a glass of red wine with a little more vigilance than before.

“I've been interested in end of life issues since my nan died some years ago. She suffered terribly with terminal cancer and knew it was her time to die. That didn't scare her or even worry her. My nan felt that all of our lives come to a natural conclusion. The trick is to accept the time we have here no matter how long or short that might be.”

“How old was she?”

“82.”

“That's pretty good. I had a grandmother who lived to be 120.” The moment the words left his mouth Draco regretted them. Thankfully, the arrival of the waiter ended any further conversation on the subject.  
#

Lucius and Hermione walked about the grounds of the Malfoy home now warmly dressed in fall jackets and scarves. They arrived at a small bridge which they crossed only to find the first faerie pond Hermione had ever seen. Faeries twinkled and flitted about which caused them to flash in an array of neon colours – pink, orange, green and blue. Their miniscule bodies made it excruciatingly difficult to find them until one landed right on her nose. A female faerie with reddish-blonde hair down to her waist smiled and blinked before she flew off. 

“Oh my gosh! I've never been that close to a faerie before,” she exclaimed.”

“Hmmmmm,” Lucius agreed. “That's rare. They usually stay away from humans. I've read they find us to be far too big and awkward for their attention. But, you seem to defy that.”

“Maybe because I'm so short,” she laughed.

“Maybe it's something else,” he mused. 

“Such as?”

As he turned her towards him he brushed the hair away from her forehead. Lucius gazed into Hermione's face as if this was the first time he'd ever truly seen her. For an unexplainable reason, he felt the need to memorize every inch of her – caramel coloured eyes, smooth ivory skin, brunette hair warmed by subtle blonde highlights that cascaded to her shoulders, and red lips the hue of crushed cherries. “Such as how kind and compassionate you are, and how tender-hearted you are . The way you're filled with the desire to think the best of people no matter what they've done in life.” Before he could even consider the consequences Lucius gathered Hermione's hands into his. He pulled her close as dozens of the microscopic beings flew about and surrounded them. His heart beat with a newly discovered rhythmn – true desire. And, that was not something Lucius had ever felt before. 

Hermione allowed herself to relish this most unexpected moment. She yearned to be closer. A fervor of arousal swelled inside of her. Every inch of the sophisticated man in front of her felt impressive and aristocratic. His bearing spoke of centuries gone by when men rode on thoroughbred horses and behaved with gallantry and courage. The young witch heard and felt each of her breaths which blew tiny puffs in the cool evening air. 

Neither witch nor wizard was willing or able to move from this moment. In the night's shadows illuminated only by the brief glint of faerie light, they understood the implication of their mutual transformation.  
#  
Draco and Charlaine walked together towards her apartment building both a bit lost within their own thoughts of the evening. Once there, Charlaine turned and smiled. “Thanks for a wonderful evening, Draco. I really enjoyed myself.”

Draco laughed in that self-conscious way he had only recently developed. “Really? I hope you did. Oh, good gracious, I sound ridiculous!” 

“Not at all. I'm glad you're not all blustery and full of yourself. It's a nice change. In fact, there's something kind of old-fashioned about you. I can't put my finger on it, but it's very charming.”

“I'm glad for that at least. Would you like to get together again sometime? That is, I hope you'd like to.”

“Yes, I would.”

With that, Draco finally found the courage to hold her shoulders and kiss her smoothly on the lips. 

“Now I'm sure I do,” Charlaine said. She tousled Draco's hair and walked into her building. 

Draco couldn't leave. He couldn't move. He didn't want to. After the war, the nightmares, the depression and all the confusion, he had found someone wonderful in a young Muggle woman. He couldn't help but appreciate the irony of it all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius and Hermione refuse to deal with the aftermath of their 'moment'. Lucius gets good news. Draco reveals his secret. Hermione escorts the two wizards into their first trip into the world of Muggle technology. And, Lucius meets a Muggle woman who puts the moves on him.

Chapter 11

  
Lucius felt his breathing intensify. “Perhaps it’s time we went inside,” he said, fearful of the moment’s end but with the knowledge that he wasn’t ready for what this moment implied.

“Of course,” Hermione agreed. She took his offered arm and in an awkward silence they strolled back to the manor.

Once inside Lucius noticed his owl Aramus had a Ministry of Magic note attached to his claw. He grasped the note and read the following:

Dear Mr. Malfoy;

As the lead investigator on your case, I can now confirm the following: the day and time you were at Diagon Alley, the day and time of your visit to St. Mungo’s, the fact that you went unconscious only a few seconds after you turned down the alleyway towards Gringott’s and the fact that you were in no physical condition to carry out an attack on anyone that day. We have also corroborated your statement that your wand went missing that same day. Therefore, it is my pleasure to say that the Auror Office has now dropped all charges against you. You are fully exonerated in this matter. However, we hope you will cooperate with us in seeking out whomever carried out this attack on you and used your wand for the cruciatus curse. We still have no idea who the intended victim was, or if there ever was a victim.

Thank-you for your full cooperation in this matter. On behalf of my associates and myself I apologize for the brutal treatment you received in your cell. The guard in question has admitted the crime. Please advise us if you would like to press charges on your own behalf, as we will press charges of our own.

Most Sincerely,  
Auror Harry J. Potter, Senior Auror, Ministry of Magic, London

Tears ran down Lucius’ face as he hooted with joy. “It’s a miracle. I’m a free man!” He lifted Hermione into his arms, twirled her around and hugged her fiercely.

“Goodness, what’s going on?” Draco entered the room completely astonished with the scene.

Lucius gently set Hermione down and hugged his son. “The charges have been dropped Draco. I’m exonerated.”

More tears ran down both wizards’ faces. Lucius enfolded Draco in his arms. “This calls for a toast.” He pulled out a bottle of Pinot Noir Champagne and poured three glasses. “To my brilliant and beautiful solicitor, Ms. Hermione Granger without whom I wouldn’t be standing here.”

Hermione blushed yet again. She felt comforted by the baritone voice of the handsome wizard. Soon an ache pierced her. The time had come. She had to leave Malfoy’s home and return to her own. Hermione shook the thought away and delighted instead in the taste of the exclusive wine. “This is exquisite,” she said.

“Yes, it is,” Lucius agreed.

Hermione set her glass down and faced the two wizards. “It seems my work here is done. I’m so glad you’re free Lucius, and you can move forward with that wonderful project you and Healer Sebastian spoke about. And, I should head home.”

“B..b...but why?” Draco sputtered. “We’ve got plenty of room here. And, it’s great to have you around.”

“Thanks, but I need to go home. It will be ready in a day or so and it’s time. But, you two have been amazing. Thank you for everything.”

“But what about my physiotherapy?” Lucius intoned.

“Yes, and what about my PTSD and my...?” Draco stopped himself. He and his father needed to have a conversation.

“Your what?” Lucius asked.

“Ummm, well actually it’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Of course. Thank you again, Hermione. Your work has been utterly brilliant.”

“You’re most welcome. You two go off.”

Draco nodded, but as he did both he and his father witnessed Hermione’s discomfort.

“As for you,” Lucius began, “we’ll talk about things more in the morning. Good night and thank you for a wonderful evening.”

“Thank you!” she smiled.

Father and son headed upstairs to Lucius’ suite and settled on the sofas opposite the fireplace. Lucius dangled an arm over the top of the sofa and waited for his son to begin.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Draco began in a small voice.

“I figured as much.” Lucius leaned forwards. “Draco, you can tell me anything. That’s what having a real father-son relationship is all about.”

“I’m dating a Muggle woman,” he spouted. “That’s it, that’s what I needed to tell you.” He stood up and paced up. “I wanted to tell you weeks ago but I didn’t know how, and I couldn’t quite find the words and...”

“Son, slow down!” Lucius stood up and held his son by the shoulders. “Slow down. Come, sit down.”

Draco slumped back onto the sofa fearful of what his father might say.

“So, you’ve been dating a Muggle woman for weeks?” Lucius made his best effort to sound fatherly and not judgmental.

“No. I met her weeks ago. We had our first date tonight.”

“Why did you say you were going out with friends,” Lucius said, obviously confused.

“I was afraid of what you might say.” Draco stared at his feet.

“Oh.” Lucius’ head dropped. He took several deep breaths to settle himself down. Then, with a patient expression he leaned forward, tilted Draco’s head upwards and gazed at his son. “I’m sorry you’re still afraid of me, Draco. I don’t want that for you. Or me. The fact that you felt you had to lie to me means you’re still worried about me, what I might say, and what I might do.”

Draco’s cheeks reddened. He folded and unfolded his hands. He started to speak then stopped and started again. “It’s more that I was worried you might think it stupid of me to like a Muggle woman.”

Lucius blinked hard several times. “I see.” He folded his hands into his lap. “Do you like her very much?”

Draco smiled for the first time in their chat. “Yes! She’s wonderful; really lovely. She’s super intelligent, interesting to talk to, has a terrific smile, and I...I...I enjoy being with her.”

“Does she know you’re a wizard?” Lucius asked matter of factly.

“No. Hermione said it wasn’t appropriate for me to tell her yet.”

Lucius nodded in agreement. “Good advice.” He paused deep in thought. “Draco, you’re not a boy anymore. It’s not for me to tell you who you should or shouldn’t date. If you like this woman then be with her. But, remember, wizard-muggle relationships can be fraught with difficulties and challenges unlike other relationships. Although, from what some wizards and witches have told me, they can also bring great satisfaction. The decision is yours to make. I’ll support you either way.”

“You will?” Draco jumped off the sofa and captured his father in a passionate hug.”

Lucius nearly fell off the sofa from Draco’s jubilation. Still, for a father and son who had struggled for so long just to have a civil conversation, the moment held enormous promise for both.

#

“Come in,” Hermione said at the soft knock on her door. Silently she hoped it was Lucius and her heart fell a little when she heard Draco’s name.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s great.” Draco sat in a side chair. “Why’re you packing? We said we’d discuss it tomorrow.”

“I know. But, I need to prepare for when I leave. As much as I enjoy it here, this isn’t my home. I came here because my home needed repairs. Now it’s time to go back.” She sounded resigned to her fate.

“It’s up to you,” Draco shrugged. “Don’t you want to hear about my date?”

“Of course I do.”

Draco crossed his legs and a small degree of his old petulant self intruded into his attitude. “We had a great time. I’m going to see her again.”

“That’s wonderful. How will you contact her?”

Draco’s face fell. “The bookstore. Why?” Suddenly, he sounded tense and apprehensive.

“Draco you can’t run out to the bookstore every time you want to speak with her. You have to call her on a Muggle phone.”

“But, I don’t have one,” he freeted.

“Not yet,” she smiled.

#  
“I don’t understand,” complained Lucius. “Why did they name a machine after a fruit? Are all machines in the Muggle world named after fruits, or is this the only one?”

Lucius, Hermione and Draco prepared to apparate into London to the APPLE store so that Draco and Lucius could purchase iPhones, their very first foray into the world of Muggle machines and technology.

 “As far I know this is the only computer named after a fruit. Now, can we go?”

Lucius held up his hand. “Just a moment, Hermione. I want to be fully prepared. So this machine is named after a fruit but no one knows why and it’s the only machine named after a fruit.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Fine.” He buttoned his newly purchased beige camel-haired coat, wrapped a white wool scarf around his neck.

Draco had purchased a navy wool coat with a matching scarf. They paraded in front of Hermione so very proud of their new style.

“Do we look Muggle enough?” Draco smiled.

Hermione laughed at their new-found fervour for all things Muggle. “Both of you look fantastic. You Malfoy men have such a sense of style.”

“Of course!” Lucius agreed. “Style helps to make the man. Or woman. And, you look lovely as always. Shall we go?”

They stepped outside and held hands as they apparated together into the heart of London. Fortunately, Hermione had done this many times before and knew several perfectly quiet spots to apparate into. “Here we go!” Together they walked to Regent Street where one of the most architecturally beautiful APPLE stores had taken up residence. She watched as Lucius and Draco absorbed the atmosphere and ambiance of the Muggle establishment.

“Very nice,” Lucius mused. “I approve. The architecture is quintessentially English with a touch of modernity to appeal to people today.” Hands on his hips, his long blond locks flowed in the wind, and completely unaware of several women who had strolled by and admired him in the space of only a few moments.

“Your father is a magnet for women,” Hermione pointed out.

“I know. Even when he was married, women came on to him all the time. Just look at him. He’s an imposing figure.”

“Hmmmmm,” Hermione hummed and once again her mind turned to last night and she shivered with the joy of being in Lucius’ arms if only for that brief moment.

Inside, Draco and Lucius couldn’t help but gaze in pure wonder at the sheer modern beauty of the store. Each of the arch shaped windows offered a different view of Regent Street. A stunning skylight illuminated the space which was a blend of modern and traditional architecture and design.

Once inside a young fellow with a blue shirt highlighted with the white APPLE logo proved eager to greet them. “Welcome to APPLE, Regent Street. How can we make your shopping experience wonderful today?” He smiled with that salesperson grin, the one that spoke of the customer service approach which leads to high commissions.

“We’re fine, thank you. We’re going to browse around for a bit,” Hermione said in the hopes that neither Lucius nor Draco would say anything.

“Yes, thank you, young man. We’re going to browse for a bit,” Lucius said in his aristocratic tone.

The young man’s eyes widened as he took in the people before him. Their dress and bearing immediately informed him they had a great deal of money to spend. He licked his lips in anticipation of a successful sale. “Of course. Please, feel free to browse.” He fished a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Lucius. “I’m Lawrence, and I’m at your disposal to assist you in any way. Might you be looking for something in particular today?”

“Mobile phones,” Lucius said before Hermione could stop him.

“Yes,” she added quickly. “Mobile phones. We’re fine though. We can do this on our own.”

Lucius turned to her with a quizzical expression on his face. “Isn’t it this young man’s responsibility to assist us?”

“It would be my great pleasure,” Lawrence said with a bit too much glee.

“Really, I know what we’re looking for. Thanks anyway Lawrence.” With that, she grabbed the hands of the two bemused wizards and headed towards the iPhone section.

“Hermione, what’s going on?” Draco asked as she dragged them along with her.

“Never mind. It’s best to do this with me. Otherwise, you’ll ask all kinds of questions that might set him off.”

Lucius nodded. “I see. You don’t trust us,” he whispered.

“I trust you, but this is like being in a foreign land for you.” Hermione picked up a sample iPhone and presented it to them. “Now, this is the mobile device I spoke about. It’s basically called that because it truly is mobile and goes with you wherever you go. If you want to call someone, you simple dial their mobile number and their device rings. They pick up and you have a conversation.”

Lucius took the iPhone from Hermione and turned it over in his hands several times. “How wonderful! So much better than sticking my head in a fireplace. I always found that horribly barbaric. But, why do they call it an eye-phone? I don’t see the symbol of an eye anywhere on the device.” He handed it to Draco who searched for the same thing.

“You’ve got a point there. Where’s the eye?”

Hermione took it back . “Not eye as in your eye, but “i” as in the letter “i”. I know that doesn’t make much sense but that’s what they call it.”

“So, are all mobile devices called the iPhone?” Lucius asked which seemed a perfectly natural question.

“No.” Hermione could feel a headache form in the back of her head. She wondered now about the wisdom of bringing two wizards into a Muggle store.

“Why not?” Draco asked.

“Each company names their own mobile device. This is just the name the APPLE company gives their phone.”

“I still don’t understand what fruit has to do with these machines,” Lucius said now obviously frustrated. He sauntered away and Hermione and Draco ran after him in a panic.

“Where are you going?” Hermione asked terrified of what he might do, or say.

“I want to see other things,” he shouted. He stopped at the shelf with the MAC computers. “Now then, what’s this device?” Hands on his hips he stared at Hermione with that ‘Lucius’ look, the one that commanded people to answer whether they wanted to or not.

“It’s a computer, but we’re not here for those today.” Hermione already felt exasperated and wished there was a stool or chair she could sit down on.

“What’s this device?” Lucius asked as he picked up a silver mouse.

“That’s a mouse,” Hermione said now fully wishing she’d never come to this store.

Lucius slammed down the mouse on the shelf. “Absurd! Why would they name a device after a rodent?” He blew out air and puckered his lips. “I don’t understand these Muggles at all. Why do they name their devices after fruits and rodents?”

“What’s a Muggle?” A lanky fellow with wire-rimmed glasses and a leather briefcase in his hand sidled up to them. “Is that a new APPLE device? The Muggle?”

“Of course not,” Lucius said now thoroughly annoyed. “It’s...”

“It’s nothing,” Draco intervened. “It’s just a silly expression.”

“Oh,” the fellow replied. “You’re sure? Maybe they’re just saying it’s an expression but it’s really a tech break-through that only APPLE knows about.” He nodded his head at the threesome convinced that the Muggle was something he must have.

“For goodness sakes,” Lucius said as Hermione grabbed his arm. “You’re a Muggle. You’re all Muggles!” He leaned in closer to intimidate the now anxious man. “You’re all Muggles and you don’t even know it.”

“Lucius! Be careful or we’ll have to get the Aurors in here to wipe peoples’ memories.” Once again she dragged them along with her until they were back at the phone counter. “I think it’s best if I purchase an iPhone for each of you and then explain it back at home. I mean the Manor.” For a second, Hermione realized she had begun to think of the Malfoy residence as her home. Fortunately, Lucius and Draco were both too flummoxed to notice.

“What do we do in the meantime?” Lucius asked. “I thought we came here together so you could explain these devices to us.” He gazed at Hermione and the ambiance and joy of the evening before returned. Lucius felt lost inside of her gentle eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m being a bear. It’s what I do when I feel lost.”

Draco patted him on the shoulder. “I know the feeling. But, Hermione, my dad’s right. We’ve got to get to know some of this world if we’re going to understand it.”

Hermione sighed. She knew they were right but she feared another Muggle incident might get them thrown out. “Fine, Draco, you stay with me and I’ll go through the phone with you. Lucius, why don’t you walk about and just try to take in the ambiance of the world of machines.”  
“Very well,” Lucius said in the brusque voice he used when he knew he was being dismissed. He left his son in Hermione’s care and proceeded to stroll about and stopped in front of a laptop. Lucius’ intense inspection of the device caught the attention of a woman in the store.

She padded up next to him and grinned. “In the market for a new laptop?”

Lucius turned to see an incredibly attractive woman; petite, long brown hair, slender figure but still curvy enough to interest him, and a smile he found rather alluring. “No...not at this time...I’m just waiting as my son purchases an iPhone.” His insides roiled with nervous energy. He’d never engaged in a social conversation with a Muggle woman. There had never been an opportunity. Yet, here he was in a Muggle store and a Muggle woman clearly attracted to him.

“Oh, you’re here with your son?” another sultry smile. “I’m Audrey, by the way.” She offered a well-manicured hand.

“A pleasure to meet you, Audrey. I’m Lucius.” As they shook hands Lucius felt a jolt of sexual excitement. Audrey’s hand felt soft and warm inside his own. His hand tingled with her delicate touch. Yet only last evening he’d felt an intimate connection with Hermione. He couldn’t understand the contradiction. And, at this moment, he didn’t want to. Lucius offered Audrey ‘that’ smile; the one he knew women loved from him; a broad, sensual grin with just a hint of flirtatiousness.

“Have you had an injury?” She nodded at the cane.

“Ah yes, I had rather an awkward fall a few weeks ago. I’m doing much better. This is just for style now.”

Audrey laughed and brushed a few tendrils of hair from her face. “Is your wife here with you as well?” She’d decided there was no moment like the present to be bold.

Lucius chuckled lightly. “I’m not married. I’m divorced. That’s my son over there.” He pointed to Hermione and Draco who were huddled together over the iPhone.

“And the young woman; is she your daughter?

“No, my solicitor.” Another sexy smile. Lucius wanted to flirt. He didn’t fully understand why, or the reason he'd relegated Hermione to just being his solicitor, but he reveled in the tension and excitement between himself and Audrey.

“Well then, I hope I’m not being too forward but my publishing company is hosting a party tomorrow evening for two of our newest authors, and it would be lovely if you could join us. Here’s my card and I’ll write the address for you.”

As she handed the card over to him, Lucius inclined his head. He’d often witnessed the effect his aristocratic manners had on women and he savoured the moment. “I’ll have to check my calendar. But, if I’m free, I would be delighted to attend. I should get back to my son.” He turned and walked off with the knowledge that his charms which had thrilled many witches in the past worked just as well on Muggle women. Although one thought did nag at him – what the hell was he supposed to wear to this party and how could he find out without appearing like a complete fool?


	12. 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius and Draco struggle with newly purchased Muggle technology. Hermione learns a terrible truth, and Lucius is at odds with his feelings for Hermione until a crisis hits.

Chapter 12

For Hermione the scene proved to be utterly surreal. Two wizards who had previously personified everything anti-Muggle and were devoted to pureblood supremacy sat huddled over their respective iPhones. In particular, Lucius proved to be an impatient student. 

“I don't understand why someone would do this texting thing when they can actually speak to a person. It's so undignified,” he fumed.

“So is sticking our heads in our fireplace but we still do it,” Draco offered as he explored the concept of 'apps' and how they might in any way assist him with his courtship of Charlaine. “I still don't get this,” he complained in frustration. 

“Now that we have these phones we can just call each other?” Lucius spoke in that old tone of his which spoke of supreme annoyance.

“First, we have to find a server who can reach us out here, and get through all the magic,” Hermione said in the hopes this wouldn't be another hour-long conversation trying to explain more Muggle technology. 

“Someone has to serve us?” Lucius asked impatiently.

Too late. The fight was on. 

“No, they don't serve us, they are servers!” 

“I don't understand the difference,” Lucius complained. “Oh, for heaven's sake.” He dumped his phone on a side table and sat down with his head between his knees. “What a waste of time.” 

Their shared annoyance was interrupted by the voice of Harry Potter who had indeed stuck his head in a fireplace back at the Auror Office. “May I step through?”

A few minutes later Harry stepped into the Malfoy residence his face drawn and defeated. “Hermione, I have some really bad news,” he said.

She ran to him and grasped his arms as she had so many times before. “Oh, Harry, what's the matter? I'm sure whatever it is we can fix it.” 

“It's Ron. He's really sick in St. Mungo's. They don't know what it is and they can't seem to help him. He's getting worse every day, and now they say he will likely die if they can't help him soon.”

Hermione's hands flew to her mouth. “No! That's impossible! We have some of the best healers in the world and...”

“Not this time, Hermione. I'm really sorry.” The two friends embraced as Draco and Lucius watched crestfallen for the young witch and wizard who had already lost so much. “We need to go to St. Mungo's now. The Weasleys are all there keeping watch over him. They want us there too.” 

“Of course. I'll get my bag and we'll leave.” She turned to Lucius and Draco, both of whom stood dumb-founded. 

“Hermione, I'm so sorry,” Lucius said as he gently took her hands. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. Just nothing.”

Draco hugged her but couldn't find the words he sought to comfort her.  
Harry and Hermione stepped into the fireplace and disappeared in a green flash. 

“What now?” Draco asked. 

Lucius shrugged. “I don't know. If she'd wanted us at the hospital, she would've asked. It's obvious that she rather us not be there. He turned and left the room. Inside the privacy of his own suite Lucius hung his head in despair. Although he understood the Weasleys weren't friends and probably never would be, he had honestly believed different of Hermione. Especially after last night. He wondered if he'd misjudged the situation. Perhaps his own feelings were only a sense of gratitude and friendship. Nothing more. 

“What's on your mind my young nephew?”

“Uncle Louis. Concern for Hermione. Her friend's ill in St. Mungo's.”

“Hmmmm. That's very sad. One of the Golden Trio?”

“Yes. Ron Weasley. She and Harry have gone to be with the family at the hospital.”

Lucius began to make his way to the shower when Louis stopped him. “That's hardly the entire story.”

“No. The entire story is I obviously misjudged Hermione's affection for me. It's friendship, nothing more. If she felt strongly for me, she would've wanted me there with her.”

“That's quite a leap. Maybe it's just her grief that guides her. I wouldn't rush to any conclusions.”

Lucius stood face to face with the painting of his elderly relative. “How would you know about any of this? You had a long, happy, loving marriage. I was relegated to one miserable marriage, and I'm certain that no witch will want to partner with me, given my past. I allowed myself to believe that Hermione would be different, but I see I was mistaken.”

“Lucius, please listen to reason...”

“What does reason have anything to do with it?”

“Remember, Miss Granger is young. She's half your age and you're just getting to know her. Give her time, Lucius.”

Lucius leaned in and palmed the portrait's frame. “Why are you so insistent on this? I could just as easily meet a Muggle woman and have...”

“Have what? Another relationship based on lies and inuendos? Don't run away from her, Lucius.”

“I don't know what to do,” he said as he breathed a heavy sigh. He bumped his head against the wall. “Please, tell me what to do. I just want to be a better man. I can't go back to the way things were.”

“Then, listen to me. She'll come around.”

“Maybe,” Lucius said in a bare whisper. “What if she doesn't want me?”  
#

Harry clasped Ginny's hand, and Hermione took a seat at Ron's bedside. Arthur stood pale and despondent. Molly cried softly. George sat on the edge of Ron's bed anxious and fearful over the possibility he would lost yet another brother. Percy hung back unsure where to be and what to do. 

“Ron, it's me, Hermione. I'm here.” She squeezed his arm and felt how thin and gaunt he'd become. 

Much of Ron's hair had fallen out. His once athletic frame had dwindled. Both hands shook with a harsh palsy, and he murmured inside a fitful sleep. “M...Mio...Mio...Wh...d... Wh..” 

“He's been like that for the last several hours, I'm afraid,” Arthur said in a brusque whisper. “And, the healers do nothing! Nothing! They flit in and out and shake their heads, and say there's nothing they can do for my son!” Arthur banged his fist against the wall. “It's an outrage!” 

“Hermione, could you do me a favour and get my mom some tea from the cafeteria? She's had nothing for hours,” Ginny begged her eyes swollen and red. 

“Of course. Anything else?”

Ginny shook her head and Hermione exited the room as quietly as she could. She walked down a quiet, lonely corridor. Peoples' cries emanated from the various rooms. Healers rushed in and out. She'd always admired their compassion and devotion. As she turned the corner towards the cafeteria, a cloaked figure grabbed her arm. “Help!” she screamed. It was too late. They had already disapparated from the hospital. 

#

Lucius stepped out of the Muggle taxi and handed over the fare plus a generous tip. Dressed in black wool trousers, a black long-sleeved shirt unbuttoned at the top and a brown suede suit jacket he looked as handsome as an actor in his prime. To add to his allure he'd purchased expensive sunglasses. He walked inside her plush condominium with is luxurious furniture, original artwork and waiters offering delectable dishes and drinks on silver trays and crystal glassware. To help ease the anxiety which now formed a hole in the pit of his stomach he quickly accepted a glass of red wine. A brief survey of the room informed him he had indeed dressed properly. The other men wore similar attire while the women had donned pricey dresses with many of them in short hemlines and plunging necklines. The moment he spotted Audrey he sighed with relief that her black dress was neither too short, nor too revealing. She'd complemented it with stylish jewellery and her hair worn loose and free. The two smiled as they spotted each other. Lucius nodded and appreciated the flush of excitement as he watched her edge towards him. 

“I'm so glad you here,” she said as she sipped her wine. 

“I'm glad too. Is this your home?”

“Yes, do you like it?” Although she'd never asked for anyone's approval before, she somehow aspired for his. 

“I do. It's very tasteful Soft whites balanced with neutral greys, and artwork in vibrant hues. Truly exquisite. As is my hostess.”

“Thank you,” she demurred. “Would you like to see the view from the terrace?”

“I'm all yours,” he purred.

“Careful, I could take that the wrong way.”

He laid his hand on her back and massaged it in small, tender circles. “Life isn't worth living if we don't take things the wrong way once in a while. Otherwise, we're just doing everything right and that's a bore.” He downed his wine and offered her his arm.  
#

Hermione and her captor arrived in a large, modern apartment. Windows covered one entire wall and the only furniture she could see was a black leather sofa and a small wooden chair opposite. 

“Sit,” he ordered in a gruff voice. 

She obeyed. Hermione knew only too well from her war experiences that you don't argue when someone has the upper hand. Grateful for the fact that she had her wand inside her left sleeve, a sick feeling told her this wouldn't end in a good way. 

“Who are you?” she asked in a soft voice. Hermione intended to stay respectful and not be lured into anger or violence unless necessary. 

“You don't recognize me? Have you forgotten me, sweet Hermione? Or, has Lucius Malfoy poisoned you against me?” He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. “Why don't we end things here right now!”

Hermione visibly shook and struggled to maintain calm in her voice. She held her hands palms up. “Please, I mean you no harm, whomever you are.”

The cloaked figure laughed in an angry, bitter tone. “Of course not. Sweet, wonderful Hermione Granger. Aren't you just perfect? The great war heroine. Maybe I should bow down to you instead?” He offered a mock bow but continued to laugh.

“Honestly, I don't know what I've done. But, if you'll let me see who you are then perhaps we can resolve this nicely. Please!”

The figure moved closer to Hermione, his wand still pointed directly at her. Slowly, in minute, careful movements he pulled the cloak off his face.

Hermione gasped when she saw who it was. “What's happened? Who did this to you?”

“You did,” he screeched.  
#

Lucius and Audry stepped out onto the terrace. A few of her wealthy, connected friends were strewn about, but she ignored them all. “What do you think?” She swept her arm across the distant panorama.”

“You have an admirable view of the Thames River,” he drawled. 

“It's even better from the bedroom,” she whispered as she drew her hand along his arm. “Would you like to see it?”

In that moment Lucius couldn't decide what to do. A jumble of contradictory thoughts and feelings flooded his mind. What if Louis was right and Hermione could develop feelings for him. The young witch aroused him in every way imagineable. He respected her brilliant mind, adored her sense of fairness and justice, and treasured the amazing, sensual woman she had become. Yet, Audrey was here, in this moment. What to do? Audrey decided for him. She took his hand and led him to her bedroom, a charming space decorated in soft blue and white. 

She eased the jacked off his shoulders and leaned in for the kiss. As she tenderly licked his lips with her tongue, Lucius was disgusted with his own lack of loyalty. Here I am doing it again! A friend is in trouble and I'm dallying with a woman I don't give a damn about. 

“I'm sorry, Audrey, this can't be...I'm not...there's someone else. I don't know what will happen between us, but I can't be with another woman until I'm sure she will or won't have me. But, she's too precious. I can't do this to her. It isn't right. I apologize for my serious lapse in judgement.” He put his jacket back on and prepared to leave. 

To his surprise she smiled. “Then, she's a very lucky woman. Most men would just not give a damn. They would screw me anyway.”

He furrowed his brow. “I truly hope that's not true. You're lovely and you deserve better. Good night. With that, he turned and left. Lucius ran down the street to hail a taxi as fast as he could to drive him to his apparation point. Once there, he swiftly returned home to find Draco in a mad fit. 

“Dad, where've you been? I've been looking all over.”

“I'm sorry, I was out briefly, but...what's the matter?”

“It's Hermione. She's gone. They've taken her!” Draco screamed. 

“Who?” Lucius panicked. “Who's taken Hermione?”

“Someone abducted her from the hospital. Harry told me about half an hour ago. They have no idea where she is. She's just gone!” Draco slumped in a chair and sobbed. 

“No! I won't let this happen. I won't,” Lucius yelled in a mad fury. “Aaaaaahhhhhh! Hermione, where are you?” Lucius' pained voice echoed throughout the house and onto the grounds of the wizard's ancient home.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally find out who abducted Hermione and what they want. Harry, Lucius and Draco dash through Muggle London to save her. And, Draco has to deal with everyone's crap.

Chapter 13

Lucius and Draco arrived in the Auror Office side by side. They found Harry presiding over several Aurors and Kingsley nearby a determined expression on his face. “Minister,” Lucius said in his most polite voice. “What's happened? I understand Hermione Granger's been abducted.”

Kingsley nodded, his eyes closed. “Yes. She went to the cafeteria for some tea and someone just grabbed her and they disapparated immediately. We have no clue as to who it might be.”

“Were no clues left behind from the attack in her home?” Draco asked hopefully. 

The CSI team Harry works with from time to time has followed all the leads they gleaned from their investigation of Hermione's home.  
But, since nothing is in their Muggle databases, they have no leads either." 

Lucius leaned his head towards Draco. “What a CSI?”

“I have no idea,” Draco said, obviously as clueless as Lucius about any Muggle criminal investigative techniques. “Ah, here's Harry. 

Anything new?” Draco intoned. 

“Nothing,” Harry said in a rueful tone. He leaned back against a nearby desk and fiddled with a quill. “None of this makes any sense. The attack on her home, and now the abduction.”

“Can you track her using some Muggle means?” Draco said in a thoroughly unknowing way. 

“Well, I could if my mobile phone worked. But, James used it as a toy the other day and it got smashed. With everything going on at the hospital and this, I haven't had a chance to replace it.”

“I've got mine,” Draco said as he pulled his newly-purchased iPhone out of his jacket pocket. “Will it help?”

“Let me see.” Harry eagerly grabbed Draco's phone. “I'll have to go outside to check it.”

Lucius, Draco and Harry rushed through the halls of the Ministry and outside into Muggle London. “You have no service,” Harry declared. 

“Hermione was going to help me with that,” Draco admitted. 

“Well, there's aCSI Office nearby. They can help. Follow me!”

Lucius and Draco chased after Harry with no idea what they were going or where they were going. The three wizards rushed through the heart of Muggle London, but Lucius strained to keep up. He heaved and breathed hard. “How far?” Lucius yelled, grateful for the fact that he'd been swimming every day. Still, shooting pains stung his leg and he leaned against the side of the building grateful when the chase ended. Harry served as a guide into the most beguiling environment Lucius and Draco had ever seen. Muggle detectives sat at futuristic looking screens, phones buzzed, people argued, and it felt as if he'd stepped into another world. They stayed close to Harry who stopped at the desk of a woman. The name plate on her desk read “Daphne Holbrook.”

“DCS Holbrook, how are you?”

She turned away from her screen and offered Harry a bright smile. Petite, with hair which ran the spectrum of blonde, blue and black, she stood up and shook his hand. “Oy, Harry, it's been awhile. Who are these blokes?”

Lucius didn't wait. He limped forwards and shook her hand. “Lucius Malfoy, Ms. Holbrook, and this is my son, Draco. We're here on a phone emergency.” When he saw the quizzical expression on her face, he stepped back. “I'll let Harry explain.”

“Thanks!” Harry laughed. “Daphne, it's an emergency, one of our own had been abducted. But, she always keeps her iPhone with her and if we can get this going then...”

“We can track her.” Daphne finished. 

“Yeah, but Draco's phone doesn't have service yet.”

“I'll fix that straight away.” Daphne took the phone, then Lucius and Draco watched in amazement as she spoke on another phone and said things like; immediate service, dangerous situation, abduction, and emergency. Within ten minutes Draco's phone was in working order. 

Harry took the phone and checked to see if Hermione's GPS tracker was on and to his delight, saw that it was. “Draco, you've saved us. Your phone is telling us where Hermione is, and she's not far.” 

Lucius and Draco stared at each other in utter amazement. “That device tells you where Hermione is?” Lucius exclaimed. He slumped down on the nearest chair and only then did he realize his leg throbbed with pain. His eyes closed he tried to massage the pain away to no avail. 

“Are you okay?” Draco asked with obvious concern. 

“No. My leg aches terribly.” 

Draco knew to worry. One thing his father never complained about was pain. Even during those horrible nights when Voldemort reigned over their home and punished Lucius with the cruciatus curse, Lucius never complained. He took extra punishment to save his wife and son from the torment. Draco sidled up to Harry. “Harry, I don't mean to cause a problem but I think I'd better take my father to St. Mungo's. He's in horrible pain.”

Harry nodded knowingly. “There's nothing more you can do. I'll gather a team of Aurors and head to where Hermione's being taken straight away. Take care.” He watched as Draco draped an arm about Lucius' shoulders and the older wizard strained to stay upright with a heavy limp. 

“Is your friend alright?” Daphne asked as she placed her hand on Harry's arm. 

“I hope so. He had a serious leg injury recently, and actually shouldn't hav been running after me like that. I didn't even think.” Harry palmed his face, took off his glasses, wiped them on his shirt, and put them back on. “I need to head back to the Ministry. Thanks, Daphne!”

“Anytime.”

Harry waved as he rushed out of the building. He offered a silent thanks for the empty street and apparted to the Ministry.  
#

Hermione struggled to keep her sense of calm. All through the war she'd managed to be a stalwart of strength and courage for Harry. But, once it ended her world crumbled. Hermione suffered as did so many others with nightmarish flashbacks, insomnia, depression, fatigue, and anger over the senseless violence and needless killing. She'd lost friends and teachers, and her parents. Hermione had never forgiven herself for sending her parents away. The memories of her parents pierced her heart with guilt and remorse. Over the years, she second-guessed herself hundreds of times over her decision to wipe their memories and send them away. In the end, she'd lost them anyway. Far too many days still forced Hermione to relive that moment and wonder if there could have been a better way to keep them safe. 

“I don't understand,” she persisted in the hopes of encouraging him to open to her and hopefully let her go. “How did I do that to you?”

The figure stood at the window and stared out into the lights of London. “I fell in love with you, but I just wasn't good enough for you.  
No, you had to have that feeble excuse for a wizard – Ron Weasley. Then, you kicked him aside and shacked up with Lucius Malfoy. A Death Eater. How could you?” he screeched. “You're a traitor to everyone who died fighting that monster.”

“I'm not shacked up with...”

“Shut up!” Once again he pointed his wanded at her. Only this time he moved closer. “You and Harry testified on his behalf with the Wizengamut. Why? Why Hermione? How could you do such a thing? He deserved the Dementor's kiss for all of his crimes, yet you still help him. Then, you move into his house. I'm not good enough for you but that monster is. You've gone insane, Hermione. It's best you die here. I can't help you any longer.” 

“No, please! If you kill me it will only make things worse for you. They'll trace your wand and...”

He spat out a coarse laugh. “My wand isn't registered with your petty Ministry.”

Just then Harry and four Aurors blasted into through the door. Hermione jumped off the sofa and pulled out her own wand. “Don't kill him. We need to get answers."

A deep blue light jetted out from Harry's wand, but the figure was equal to the fight. “Bring it on!” he shouted. The other Aurors encircled him and he was quickly subdued. He dropped his wand. 

Harry walked up to the disfigured man, his eyes wide in disbelief. “Victor? Victor Krum. Why?”

“Because of her,” he pointed at Hermione. “I couldn't stop thinking of her. I lost my concentration in a match and I fell. My broom caught fire and my face and hands were burned. The healers tried but they couldn't fix me. They were useless! It's her fault. It's all her fault.”

“Are you responsible for what's happening to Ron Weasley?” Harry insisted his wand pointed at Krum's head. 

Krum laughed. “I screwed him up good! Fucking prick, I hate him. She leaves me for him? So, yes, I used some rather cruel dark magic on him. Let him rot there. I don't give a shit!”

“I think you'll give a shit when I say you either fix him up or face the consequences,” Harry threatened.

Krum threw his arms up in surrender. “What consequences? Prison? I don't care. I know how to escape those places. Trust me, the magic I've learned can do more than just make a man very sick.” He bumped the back of his head against the wall. “You can't hurt me, Harry. I've lost everything. My career. My friends. My fame. There's nothing left.”

“Yes there is,” Harry said. “Your quidditch record. And, I know you care about that.”

Krum whipped his head around. “You can't change that. It's history.”

“I happen to have a little influence in magical affairs. How would you like your name and all your awards stricken from the record books?”

“No!” Krum screamed. He dropped to his knees. “What do you want?”

“Reverse the damage you've done to Ron.”

Krum shook his head. “I can't. Not all of it.”

“What?” Hermione shouted. “Why would you do something so horrible? Ron did nothing to you.”

“No, but he didn't deserve you. For that, I hate him.”

“Please? Hermione begged through her tears. She hesitated but slowly took one of Victor's hands. “I'm sorry I hurt you. I never meant to. Our friendship always meant so much to me. You were the first boy who ever showed any attention to me. I felt so beautiful that night with you at the Yule Ball. I've never forgotten that feeling.” Hermione could see Krum begin to buckle. He hung his head in shame. “But, Ron doesn't deserve what you've done to him. There must be something you can do. You were Ron's hero. He idolized you. I know there's still a part of you that doesn't want it to be like this.”

Hermione's compassionate appeal touched a part of Krum even he didn't know still existed. His voice came in ragged breaths. “I ...I...can't reverse it...it... all. There..w..w... will be damage,” he whispered. 

“Will you at least help?” Hermione pleaded.

Krum nodded as Harry took him into custody. “I'm sorry I scared you,” he yelled as the Aurors took him away. “Hermione, please, forgive me!” His voice echoed as he trudged down the hall with his captors.

“Come, Ms. Granger,” one of the Aurors insisted. “We need to take you to St. Mungo's for observation.”

“I'm fine,” she said as she tried to resist.

“Sorry, Miss, but it's protocol.”  
#

Lucius leaned back on the pillows and grimaced as Healer Sebastian examined his leg. An inflammation had developed in his calf which caused it to swell and redden. The healer bristled as he investigated Lucius' leg inch by inch with his wand. He finally stood up as he seethed with anger. “I gave you strict instructions to care for your leg in a specific way, Lucius. Why would you go and do this? You've set yourself back weeks,” he fumed. The healer gathered his things. “You'll have to remain in hospital yet again for several days until this inflammation heals. I hope whatever you did, it was worth it.” His entire body shook when he faced Lucius. “I'll leave you to rest now.” With that the infuriated wizard lumbered out of the room, all the while muttering to himself about wizards and their sheer stupidity. 

Draco sat by his father's bedside perturbed by Lucius' setback. Still, now wasn't the time to say anything. The healer had left behind a pain potion for Lucius to take which he did as Draco tormented himself over the situation. “I should've never let you run after Harry like that,” he mused. 

“Nonsense,” Lucius disagreed. “When has anyone ever been able to tell me anything, even when it's for my own good?”

Dismayed with everything that had occurred, Draco knew better than to argue. “I'll just keep that to myself,” he smiled. “Please, get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow.” 

Lucius didn't even have time to say good-night as the pain potion began to take effect. His eyes drooped and then closed. Long blond hair lay graceful on the pillow and his breath moved in a clear, steady rhythmn. Draco felt grateful for the fact that at least one of them would get a good night's sleep. 

#

Draco sauntered through the hospital hallways when he heard a familiar voice. He rushed inside and found Hermione on top of the bed sipping tea, with Harry and Ginny at her bedside. “Hermione! You're okay!” In a rather surreal moment for all, Draco enveloped Hermione in a warm hug. 

“I'm fine,” she laughed. “But, what're you doing here?”

“It's my dad. His leg...uh...well he had a bit of a setback...and...” Draco caught Harry's eyes which warned him not to say anything further. “They're just being careful is all,” he lied. 

Apprehensive, Hermione set down her tea mug and sat up. “Draco, what aren't you telling me?”

“Hermione, haven't you been through enough tonight?” Ginny argued. “Let it go for once!”

Hermione fell back on her pillows. She bit her bottom lip and tugged at Draco's arm. “Should I let it go Draco?”

Draco nodded. He'd had enough drama for one night. He only wanted to go home and climb into bed. “I'll come see you tomorrow,” he promised. 

“Before you go, Draco, this is for you.” Harry handed him his iPhone. “Your phone helped us save Hermione.”

“That's fantastic. Night all.” As he headed out into the hallway he heard Hermione's answer. “I'll find out. You know I will.” 

And he did know. Lucius would be a bear about his leg. Hermione would be furious he'd risked himself for her. She would intimidate him in that way she had. Her sweet polite voice guided by her pure insistence on knowing everything. Then, Lucius would want to know what to do about Hermione. He obviously had feelings for her. But, did she have feelings for him? Why was everything so screwed up?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius and Hermione begin to admit their mutual desires. Draco has a strange but wonderful date. Ron is still on the edge and his recovery is uncertain. Draco and Lucius have a heart to heart. Next chapter will see Hermione and Lucius move forward with their relationship. Not long to wait!

Chapter 14

Hermione slipped quietly into Lucius’ room and found the wizard resting quietly. The bottles on his nightstand indicated he’d taken both pain and sleep potions. She closed her eyes for a few moments then sat in a chair by his bedside. Conflicted emotions roiled inside of her. The Weasley family would be by Ron’s bedside and wonder why she wasn’t there too. After her examination last night and a good night’s rest she’d been cleared. There was no reason to linger. A brief smile touched her lips as she gazed at the wizard’s face. His lng blond locks fell across the pillow like fine embers of filial energy. Over the past few weeks she’d learned much about the man she assumed would have spent the past six years embroiled in a furious attempt to regain his former status as chief manipulator in their community. In reality, he’d done nothing of the sort. He’d set aside his former beliefs which had crumbled under the weight of a monster who’d stolen his home, beaten him into submission and threatened his family. 

Lucius’ eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes to see Hermione’s exquisite brown eyes staring over him. “Do you always stare at men in hospital beds?” he mused. Lucius struggled to sit up but managed to do so and without the grunts and groans most men would have resorted to. 

“Yes always,” she laughed. “What was going on in that head of yours Lucius? You could have seriously damaged your leg.”

“Hmmmmm. You’re welcome,” he said in that detached voice of his. 

“Oh. Yes. Sorry. Thank you for helping Harry find me.”

“So, who was the brute who decided to attack and kidnap you?” Now fully awake he found a pot of tea on the nightstand and poured himself a cup. 

“Victor Krum,” Hermione said in a matter of fact tone. 

“Why? What the hell did he want with you?” Lucius blew out air and took a few sips of his tea. 

“He was angry at me for choosing Ron over him.” Hermione figured that one day she might have to tell Lucius the rest of the story but today wasn’t that day. 

“No comment.” Lucius sipped his tea in quiet contemplation. They sat together neither one with the obvious courage to speak about the true nature of what was on their minds. Lucius finally set his tea down. He heaved a sigh. “Hermione there’s a lot I want to say to you about many things. However, a hospital room is hardly the ideal location for a personal conversation.” He took one of her hands which had been curled up in her lap. “The other night we shared an extraordinary moment. I suppose that sounds cliché but I can’t summon any other word that truly fits. I’ve never experienced a moment like that, where I felt connected to someone in such a genuine fashion – a woman - without any words at all. And, I certainly wouldn’t have thought I’d risk myself the way I did last night.”

Lucius’ husky voice and his emotional honesty caught Hermione inside a turmoil of reactions. She’d always fantasized that this man had been so close to the enemy they were assumed to be master and mentor. Only recently had she discovered this assumption to be a lie. Lucius Malfoy was a far more vulnerable man, less pompous and arrogant than she’d imagined. She blushed and tried to avoid eye contact for fear of losing that part of herself which had always been independent, forceful and in control. Hermione’s one hand held tight onto the sides of her chair. She felt fragile and delicate almost like the Victorian women of the past who were often expected to swoon in male company. 

In a tremulous tone she responded. “Yes, I felt the same. I honestly…I mean…I truly don’t know what it means.” She allowed Lucius to hold onto her hand. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, as he slowly pulled her hand towards his face and massaged his cheek with the back of her hand. 

A few tears slid down Hermione’s cheek. 

“We’ll have this conversation soon, I hope.”

“I hope so too.”

They continued to sit together in that same silence. Their unspoken passion surrounded them in a tumultuous circle of feverish desire. The thrill of their mutual revelations bound them in a web of ardor and passion. Inside that stillness it was as if nothing could stir them from the slow build of sexual tension and obvious yearning for each other.  
#

Healer Sebastian leaned forward over Ron, his face drenched in sweat. Red cheeks puffed out in a determined rhythm. He alternately sped up and slowed down the wand’s movements over the side of Ron’s head. Each swipe of the wand was accompanied by a grunt of approval or disappointment. “Shite! Dark magic should be banned!” he screamed as he stood up. The elderly healer massaged his lower back. “That’s all I’m able to do today,” he said with resolve. 

“What?” Molly screeched. “But, what if …if he’s not cured? Our son was a war hero and…”

“Oy Mom, give it a rest!” George yelled. “Healer Sebastian’s been at it for three hours now. He needs a break.”

Molly stood with arms folded across her chest, her hands formed into globs of fisted rage. She unfolded her arms and drummed her fingers onto the nearby night table. “I’m outraged this should happen to our son who…”

“Yes, yes, we know Mom. He helped defeat You Know Who.” Ginny sidled over to Molly and enfolded the beleaguered witch in her arms. “Everyone’s doing their best,” she said, her voice calm and patient. She rubbed her mother’s arms then let her go. “We need to let the hospital do their work, and not be so impatient.”

Molly pulled away from her daughter and pointed a finger at the healer. “He’s known for days how sick Ron is, yet he’s still in bed and not getting any better.” Her arms flailed at her sides. “I’m tired of this. Fix my son!” she demanded.

“Molly! Show some respect,” Arthur said in the hopes he could calm his wife. 

“No, I won’t! This is my son we’re talking about. He risked his life over and over again for this community. Now they sit by and twiddle their thumbs. I’m sick of it!” She shoved Healer Sebastian and Arthur aside and stormed out of the room. 

Arthur hung his head. Harry, Ginny and George stood by. Not one of them could look the healer in the face. “I…I’m…terribly sorry,” Ginny tried. “She…just…well she gets like this…you know…but she’ll calm down.” She turned to Harry who blinked hard and shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, I’ve had quite enough of this,” the healer insisted. “I’ve got numerous patients to work with and I’ve given far more extra time to Mr. Weasley’s case than anyone else. And this is the thanks I get. I’ll see you all tomorrow and give you a prognosis then.” He packed up his wands and strode out without another word. 

#

Draco paraded back and forth in front of the Muggle movie theatre. Why on earth did I agree to this? I haven’t got a clue what goes on in these places? What if I have to do something and make a complete idiot of myself? She’ll throw me off for sure. He mopped his brow and shoved the handkerchief back in his coat pocket. Just as he had only a few moments before he checked and rechecked to see if there were any messages on his iPhone. He admitted to Hermione that he still didn’t understand the damn thing, and only used it because she told him Muggles would think it weird if he didn’t use a mobile. When he saw no calls from Charlaine he checked his watch for about the fifth time in five minutes. Draco began to pace again. Unfortunately, now a Muggle couple walked up to the theatre and checked out the marquee. 

“Which one do you think?” she said.

“I don’t really care,” he said. “Let’s just pick one.”

“I heard Captain America is really good. And, I love Robert Downey, Jr. What are you seeing?”

It was at least a minute before Draco realized she’d spoken to him. “Huh? What’s that? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Have you heard good things about Captain America?” she asked in a hopeful voice.

“Ummm, yeah, Captain America…good things…yes I have,” he lied without any idea what she was talking about.

“Where? On the Internet? In the paper?” the man demanded as he stared Draco down.

“Don’t remember actually and…oh…here’s my date. Gotta run.” He dashed towards Charlaine with gratitude for the chance to get away  
from the Muggle couple. More than ever he began to question what could happen in such a relationship. “Hey Charlaine! It’s great to see you.”

“Great to see you,” she said enthusiastically.

The two hugged and when Draco pulled back he detected something different about her. “You look different today,” he remarked. “I can’t put my finger on it but you do.”

“Thanks for noticing. Yes, I trimmed my hair a bit.”

“You look great, but then you looked great before.”

“Thanks. So, what should we see?”

“Honestly? I don’t care. I’m here to see you, not the movie.” Draco smiled and noticed Charlaine’s cheeks tint with the deep hue of her blush. 

“That’s so sweet. Thank you. Well then, how about a thoughtful drama? I’ve heard Money Monster is really well done, and I do like George Clooney.” She turned a hopeful eye in his direction.

Draco shrugged. He didn’t know one movie from the next and absolutely no idea who George Clooney could be. “Sure. Fine with me.” They strolled into the theatre and Draco couldn’t quite keep up with the culture shock. He knew to have Muggle money but buttered popcorn and frozen yogurt were as foreign to him as he knew the movie would be. He munched on a chocolate bar which felt like the safest thing he could buy. But, Draco couldn’t stop from being wide-eyed as he followed Charlaine into the theatre. He plodded after her in the hopes that simply being gentlemanly would get him further than a tons of questions which would only reveal total ignorance. Once the movie began, Draco almost dropped the yogurt in his lap. He’d never witnessed anything like the immense screen in front of them with characters that moved and spoke at the same time. “Holy shit!” he whispered.

“What’s that?” Charlaine asked. 

“Shush, we’re trying to hear,” the woman behind them insisted. 

“Sorry,” Draco said over his shoulder. He set the yogurt on the floor under his seat and wished he could utter a quick “evanesce” to make it disappear. No such luck. His mouth fell open and Draco sat transfixed in his seat. He couldn’t move. Every nerve ending in his body twitched with the sheer excitement of his first film. “Wow, wow, wow,” he whispered. Draco gripped the sides of his seat, learned forward and barely moved for the full two hours. 

Afterwards as the two walked towards a café for a coffee and dessert Charlaine couldn’t resist. “Draco, how often do you go to the movies?”

He stopped, dropped her hand and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Never,” he admitted. Draco understood the risk. A light tremor shook his legs. Inside his pockets, his hands felt cold. A shiver slid down the back of his neck. 

Charlaine stared for several seconds then shook her head. “Never? How’s that possible?”

“The thing is, my parents were very strict.” That part, at least, was true. “They didn’t like the idea of me being exposed to things like this. I was even schooled at home for the first eleven years of my life.”

“Wow! I didn’t know. Although I do understand. Many parents home-school their kids. It’s kind of the ‘in thing’ right now.”

Draco grasped her arms. “Really? I didn’t know. I don’t feel so silly saying that now.”

“You don’t have to feel silly. But then, where did you go to school after that? I know you said it was a private school but you never said the name.” The two began to work side by side once again.

“Ummm, I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.” Again, that was the truth. 

“Oh. Okay. It sounds like you don’t want to tell me. I won’t judge you; I promise.”

“I’m not afraid of being judged. It’s just, as I said, my parents were very strict when I was growing up and they kept me kind of within a very small community of friends.”

“So, when did things change?”

“Just recently. But, to explain why would take a huge amount of time.” Draco wanted to tell her. He wanted to have an honest relationship with Charlaine. He imagined the satisfaction he would feel when he really got to know her – every part of her. Draco had never really had a relationship with a woman on equal terms. Witches in his world either drooled over the Malfoy money, or hated him for the fact that his father had once been a Death Eater. He had no idea how to explain this to Charlaine. How do I start, he thought to himself? What do I say? See Charlaine the thing is, I’m a wizard. I own a wand. I can do magic. My father was a Death Eater and supported a crazy monster by the name of Lord Voldemort who murdered hundreds of witches and wizards in a stupid war. He lived in our house. Why? Because our house is guarded by ancient wards that are almost one thousand years old. Oh yes, my mother left my father for being a Death Eater. We don’t know where she is because she won’t tell us. And, she hates Muggles. You’re a Muggle. All non-magic folk are Muggles. Thank you for listening to my ridiculous speech!

Draco heard someone snap their fingers and realized it was Charlaine.

“Are you there? You okay?” She furrowed her brow. 

“Yeah, course I’m here. Why?” He had no idea what was going on.

“You just disappeared there for a few minutes. It was a bit weird.” 

Draco wondered if he’d used his wand unconsciously. “Disappeared how?”

“Well, your eyes went all glassy and you looked really pale.”

“Oh.” Draco touched his cheek. This isn’t good, he said to himself. This is not good. I like her but I’m just way too strange for her. He smiled then disappeared behind his menu in the hopes she would completely forget what just happened. 

#

The next morning dawned with a brilliant sunshine which radiated an intense warmth across all of London. Lucius sat up and basked in the rays which flooded his room. He delighted in the fact that Draco had just walked in with a box from his favourite pastry shop. The familiar deep red box with a white bow caught his attention from the moment his son entered the room. He clapped his hands like a small boy at his own birthday party. “Thank you!” He opened the box eagerly and lifted out one of his all-time favourite treats – a blueberry scone still warm from the oven and some blueberry preserves on the side. “How thoughtful of you. Would you like one?”

Draco shook his head and thoroughly enjoyed his father’s effervescence. 

“Good. More for me,” Lucius laughed. “Mmmmm,” he hummed as he bit into the treat. “Perfect. Oh, how was your date last night?”

Draco pulled up a chair. “It was alright. But it just reminded me of how we come from different worlds. We both grew up in England but…” His voice drifted off. 

Lucius put his plate down and leaned forwards. “Draco. There’s nothing wrong with coming from different worlds if you can navigate them both. Maybe you need to tell her the truth and see what she says?”

“What?” Draco popped out of his chair. “I don’t believe this. How can you of all people say that?”

Lucius lay back on his pillows. “Yes, I know, it sounds very strange coming from me, but I only say that because I find myself in a similar situation.”

Draco stared at his father for several moments and narrowed his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, Hermione Granger.” Lucius felt as if he was holding his breath for Draco’s response.

Draco scratched his head. “Huh? I still don’t get it.” He leaned against the wall and shook his head. “What’re you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that she and I have developed feelings for each other.” Lucius clasped his hands together and lay them on his chest. “

“Oh that. I knew that,” Draco said in a matter of fact voice.

“You did? I just admitted it to myself.” Lucius sounded incredulous at his son’s revelation. 

Draco sat back down. “I’m glad to hear it. But I could see it in you for some time now. The way you look at her, the sound of your voice, the times you stare at her when you think no one’s watching and…”

Lucius grinned and chuckled. “Obviously, I gave myself away. But, I hope to pursue her, Draco. However, only when I know I can be the absolute best man I can be. I won’t offer her anything less. She deserves a man of the highest quality and I have a lot to do before I can even hope to be such a person. 

“You really care for her,” Draco said in a still, quiet voice.

“Yes. Very much. I’ve never felt so utterly captivated by any woman. She intrigues me, and I feel spellbound when she’s near. But, I refuse to give her anything less than the best.” Lucius locked eyes with his son. “I hope that will enable me to win her heart.”

“I hope so too,” Draco admitted.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Charlaine have a misunderstanding. Lucius and Hermione finally share a moment. I hope you'll forgive the fact that I don't think erotic scenes are my forte. But I'm trying.

Lucius paced back and forth in his study. He fully understood the healer’s directions; he was supposed to be resting his leg as much as possible. Healer Sebastian had been emphatic on the matter to the point where he pointed his wand at Lucius’ face and warned him of dire consequences if he didn’t take care of his leg. But, the complex wizard couldn’t sit still. Hermione was coming over and he wanted to have that ‘talk’. Almost every second of the last few days had been spent arguing with himself. What should he say to her? What could he say? Did she want him or did she just want a friendship? What did that even mean? He’d tossed and turned for hours in bed, and drove himself to the brink of madness with his incessant inner dialogue on Hermione. 

‘You’re supposed to be resting,” Draco complained when he walked in. “Why can’t you do what the healer tells you for once?” He stood with hands on his hips and an anxious smirk on his face. 

Lucius simply offered his son a scowl which told Draco his father was not amused. 

“Please, sit down. You’re making me nervous,” Draco urged. 

Lucius reluctantly sat down in the nearest chair but drummed his fingers on the arm rests until Draco stopped him. 

“What’s the matter?” He pulled up a chair and silently implored his father to answer.

“Hermione’s coming over for lunch. It seemed like a good idea, but now, I’m not so sure.” He dropped his head in his hands. 

Draco understand his father’s ‘sulking mode’ all too well. “What’s the problem?” he said as if he were the ultimate salesman selling a new piece of technology. “You like her. She likes you.” He clapped his hands as if it were a done deal. 

Lucius raised his head. “It damn well isn’t.” He stood and began to pace again. “You don’t understand. I’ve…I’ve…never…ahhhh!” he screeched and pounded his fist on the chair. 

Draco went over and turned his father to face him. “You’ve never what?”

“It’s too embarrassing.” 

“Come on what could be more embarrassing than everything that we’ve…what could be so bad?” He clapped his dad on the shoulder.

“I’ve never asked a woman out on a date!” Lucius screamed. He grabbed Draco by the shoulders. “There, are you happy?” He turned to leave but Draco stopped him.

“Whoa! You can’t drop a bomb like that and just leave.”

Lucius seethed. A storm brewed in his eyes as he turned to face his son. Draco took several steps back. Lucius narrowed his eyes. On his usually placid, unemotional face, a slow burn rose within. The ferocity which he could summon raged inside of him. He closed his eyes and slowly recovered his balance but his voice spoke his displeasure. “I know you want to help me, son, but some things are private. And, as you know, I’m a very private man.”

Draco shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I never should’ve spoken to you like that. But, in the spirit of our new-found openness, I’m just going to say I’ve never seen you so happy as you’ve been these past few weeks; especially when Hermione stayed with us. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it seems like the two of you are so well-suited to each other, and I just want you to be happy. I meant no disrespect. I’ll let you have some privacy.”

Draco walked towards the door, but this time it was Lucius who stopped him. “We didn’t go on regular dates in my day, Draco.” Lucius’ voice was the sound of a man who had been reconciled to his fat.

Draco spun around. “What? I didn’t know that. I mean…I knew you and Mom had been arranged to meet but…but…what about all those stories at our house parties of you being the ‘Romeo’ of your day?”

“Made up by my parents. The only time a pureblood wizard spent time in the company of a young girl alone would have been at a party in someone’s home. We were very closely watched even at school.” Lucius sat on the edge of the chair. His voice drifted into a resigned sadness. “It was…well…not idea.” He folded his hands and laid them in his lap.

Draco blinked hard. “I really didn’t know. But, that’s absurd! It sounds like the middle ages not the 20th century.”

Lucius shrugged. “Pureblood society is very resistant to change; as you well know.”

“Yeah, but that’s archaic.”

“Be that as it may, I’ve no frame of reference for asking a young woman out on a date. And, I was married for over twenty years. So, I’m not exactly a ‘Romeo’.” Lucius sneered at the thought of the stupid story his parents insisted on telling people when he was a young man.

When the sound of the doorbell penetrated the house, Lucius stood up in a panic. “What do I do?”

Draco shook his head. “I think you’ll have to play it by ear,” he smiled. 

“No, no, no!” Lucius hissed. “I don’t play by ear. I plan. I organize. I…”

“You have a date and so do I.” Draco slapped his dad on the back, turned on his heels and walked out. 

Moments later Hermione walked in. Dressed in a black, knee-length a-line dress with sheer sleeves and black sandals she offered a dazzling smile as she entered the room. “Hello Lucius,” she beamed. 

“Hello,” he said. Lucius’ stomach churned. The second she smiled at him his knees went weak. He gripped his hands tightly in the hopes they would stop shaking. He loved how she filled the room with the essence of her sweetness and beauty. With her hair swept back and flowing in curls down her neck and shoulders, he delighted in her flawless complexion, the way she emphasized her lips with a delicate pink and simple gold jewellery at her neck and wrist. His breath hitched. A tug inside his trousers caught him unaware and he prayed she didn’t notice. All he could think of was how could he run to her, enfold her in his arms and flood her with kisses. But, the practiced pureblood in him held back. He offered a warm smile and a nod. “Good to see you,” he said as he strode over and shook her hand. 

Hermione’s heart fell. He obviously wanted to be friends but nothing more. Otherwise, his greeting would’ve been far more intense and passionate. “It’s nice to be here,” she said desperate not to let her disappointment show. 

#

Draco and Charlaine walked hand in hand through Hyde Park. Prior to meeting Charlaine, Draco had spent time in London, but his exposure had been limited. He stared in awe at the grand beauty and the pleasure people took in walking together and enjoying nature. 

“What’re you staring at?” Charlaine asked. 

“Nothing and everything,” Draco answered. “What’s that?” He pointed to the memorial for Diana Princess of Wales. 

Charlaine stopped and dropped Draco’s hand. “Okay, who are you?” 

Draco stepped back. He had to stall for time. Hermione had told him to go somewhere he felt comfortable. In his naivete, he believed a park would just be trees and trails. “What kind of question is that? Come on, let’s go. We’ve only got an hour before you have to return to work.”

Charlaine shook her head. “Let’s sit down for a bit.” She took off her sandals, sat down on the edge of the memorial and dipped her feet in the water as so many did with the full knowledge that the fountain, to some degree, represented the ebb and flow of Diana’s brief life. 

Draco followed her lead, although he had no idea what he was doing. The squeamishness he felt on earlier encounters with Charlaine returned. “This is nice,” he said meekly.

“Yes. Draco, I need to know what’s going on. So, please hear me out.” She smiled and touched his arm affectionately 

“Okay.” The nausea inside his stomach began to build.

“There are just so many gaps with you. You don’t tell me where you went to school except to say it was ‘very exclusive’ although you won’t give me a name. I never hear about any of your friends, and you have an aunt who lived to be 120. Not only that, I have no idea what you really do. You give me vague answers like you work with your family business, but I honestly don’t know what that is. Don’t get me wrong; you seem like a really nice guy. But something’s missing here and I’m getting a bad feeling about things. I need you to be on the level with me, otherwise I can’t keep going out with you.” 

Draco was crestfallen. He liked Charlaine a lot. He shifted about on the edge, his feet still in the water. Soon he pulled his feet out and put on his socks and shoes. His chin in his hands he contemplated the various answers he could give. But, he knew only one would do. “I’m a wizard,” he said.

He spoke so faintly, Charlaine could barely hear. “A what?”

“A wizard,” he repeated. “My family and I are what you would call ‘magic folk’. It goes back hundreds of generations in my family. 

Now Charlaine pulled her feet out of the water. She stood next to Draco. “That’s very amusing, Draco. I thought you wanted an adult relationship as I do. I’m not interested in games, so don’t do this to me. Take your stupid stories and sod off.” Enraged, she grabbed her sandals. She stuck her finger into Draco’s chest. “And, stay away from me!” Charlaine bolted giving Draco no opportunity to follow her. 

He stood dumbfounded in his place until he found a small stone nearby and threw hard at the nearest tree. “I am a wizard!”

A young gay couple strolled by arm in arm. “Oy! Whatever’s going on mate, don’t take it out on the trees. You’ll get thrown out of the park.”

Draco grimaced. “Sorry. Just got dumped.” He slumped back down onto the memorial’s grey, metallic edge. 

The couple stopped. “Sorry mate, that’s harsh.” 

Draco nodded and dropped his head into his hands.  
#

Hermione and Lucius had enjoyed a lovely lunch albeit most of the time with heavy, awkward silences. They walked through the rose garden and Lucius pointed out the multi-coloured flowers he’d created over the years. “This one is especially important to me. I created it when Draco was born.” The rose was layered in shades of red, blue, yellow and orange, and when Lucius touched it with the tip of his finger, the flower glowed with the auras of its colours. 

“That’s gorgeous,” Hermione’s face shined with her genuine enthusiasm. “I never knew you had such a talent for herbology. May I?”

Lucius nodded and she too touched one of the roses with the tip of her finger. The auras glowed and surrounded the two as they stood inside the shower of colours. 

“You really have the touch,” Lucius said in admiration. “These flowers obviously like you, just as the faeries did that night at the pond.”

Hermione reddened. Lucius cupped one side of her face. “These glorious blossoms only enhance your allure. You really are an exquisite woman.” His breath hastened in its pace. He moved closer to Hermione and dropped his hand from her face to her shoulders, then folded both his arms about her waist. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks,” he whispered. 

Hermione stood on tiptoe and draped her arms about his neck. “I’ve wanted to kiss you too.” 

The auras continued to glow around them expanding as the two moved closer to each other. They hummed and vibrated with a rousing energy stimulating the would-be lovers to embrace each other with fervid passion. Lucius bent his head towards Hermione. At first, he dusted her lips with his own. He moved his mouth in a slow rhythm across her own. His hands roamed about her back while hers massaged his neck. Lucius and Hermione kissed full on with open lips as they delved into their deepest desire. Soon, he slipped his tongue into her mouth and she into his. Their tongues wrapped around each other in a crush of frenzied passion. Lucius seduced her by gliding his tongue along hers then around her lips and back. His fingers trailed along her back and onto her behind. Hermione responded to the cue. She stroked his neck with her fingertips and Lucius emitted a deep, sensual growl to spur her on. Their tongues tickled one another and Lucius practically crushed her as he pulled her closer to him. Skillfully, he tempted her by thrusting his tongue inside her mouth a little harder than before. She spirals his tongue around hers. Then, as an erection gripped Lucius he finally pulls back. His hands linger on her face. Hers cradled his shoulders. Hermione shivered with the intensity of Lucius’ gaze. He’s held inside her smile, enraptured, and a prisoner of her sweetness and beauty. 

As they pulled apart, Lucius took Hermione's hand and walked her through more of the flowers. Eventually, they came to an outside garden with beautiful chairs where they sat side by side. "Hermione, there's something I must tell you." He breathed in a heavy sigh. "The fact is, I don't have much of a compass for what we're doing. I never really dated because it just wasn't the pureblood way when I was growing up. Things were much more formal then."

She massaged his arm then took his hand in hers. "I didn't know that. Is this frightening for you?"

"Terrifying," he laughed. "Not only that, but we've been worlds apart most of the time we've been acquainted with each other, and I'm at least twice your age. Don't these things worry you?" 

"When I first realized I was attracted to you, they did. But, I never would have kissed you like that if I didn't want something to develop between us."

"Hmmmm," Lucius sat deep in thought and said nothing for several minutes.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that you deserve the best man possible and I want to be that man for you. I'm just not sure how to get there." He cradled her shoulders with his arm. "But I'm damn well determined I'm going to find a way." He tenderly touched his forehead to hers as they sat together in warmth of the afternoon sun.


	16. 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Lucius have a humorous chat about their respective therapists and Lucius finally begins romancing Hermione. There are unexpected results with Ron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long delay in updating. Life intervened.

If For Any Other Reason  
Chapter 16  
Hermione sat blinking as she watched the surreal image she found herself in that Friday afternoon. Lucius and Draco both dipped spoons into their first foray into the world of frozen yogurt. They “ooed” and “awed” at all the various flavours and concoctions. In the end, Lucius chose scoops of vanilla and chocolate mint topped by a hot fudge sauce, whipped cream and cherries. Draco chose a triple scoop of strawberry yogurt topped with fresh strawberries, whipped cream and cherries. The two wizards hummed and licked their lips as they downed their treats. Hermione had ordered a single scoop of butterscotch ripple but couldn’t seem to find an appetite. All she could think of was the feeling of Lucius’ legs as they bumped against hers under the table.

“Why don’t the two of you share your experiences today?” she suggested.

 

Lucius nodded. “Oh yes, Draco, I forgot to tell you. I love physical therapy. My therapist is absolutely lovely. She gave me this wonderful massage, and then some very helpful home exercises and something called an ultra sound to bring down the inflammation in my leg. An absolutely brilliant woman!”

Draco finally looked up from his dish. “Oh, mine was amazing too. My PTSD therapist. Well, she’s actually a doctor, you see. Very knowledgeable. Highly respected. Really helpful.” With that, he returned to the wonder of frozen yogurt.

Lucius furrowed his brows and laid down his spoon. He dabbed at his lips and sat back in his chair, once again an authoritative wizard. “Well, my physical therapist, whose name is Jennifer is also highly respected. She treats Olympic athletes. So, I’m sure she’s a superior therapist.”

Now, Draco put down his spoon. “My doctor has published books and…”

“Oh, for heavens sakes,” Hermione yelled. “Stop this. It’s not a competition. It’s about sharing.” Exasperated, she dropped her head in her hands.

Lucius crossed his arms over his chest, and Draco did the same. “I thought we were sharing,” Lucius said obviously dumbfounded.  
Hermione shook her head and left father and son to argue over whose therapist was more competent in the muggle world. Utterly surreal.  
#

Harry sat at Ron’s bedside. His long-time friend struggled with the spoon to try and eat some rice pudding. Ron’s hands still shook, although his overall body appeared far more relaxed.

“B…b…bl..bloody, sp…sp…spoon,” he sputtered. After three attempts, he finally managed to scoop some pudding out of the dish and get it into his mouth. Pudding dripped down his chin and onto his neck.

Harry leaned over to try and help but Ron swatted him away.

“I…I..d..d…don’t n…n…need y..your h…h…help,” he spat. “And y…don’t h…have t…t…t…to stay h…here.” His bloodshot eyes, gaunt physique, trembling hands and voice told the story of Ron’s injuries. The worst however was yet to be revealed.

“I know I don’t have to,” Harry said in a quiet, kind voice. “I want to. Besides when you fully recover we’ll need you back at the Auror office. We’re terribly short-handed without you.”

Ron slowly turned his head towards Harry and offered him a quizzical look. “Wh…what you g…g…goin on ‘bout? Wh…wh..the f..fuck is a Au…au…auroar?”

Harry’s eyes widened. A few tears threatened to fall but he stopped them. He briefly closed his eyes. The Ron Weasley before him wasn’t the Ron he’d always known and a sick feeling told Harry he never would be.

#  
Later that day, Harry sat in Kingsley Shacklebolt’s office. The two shared a brandy and the dismal conversation that had taken place between them created a dark and dreary atmosphere in the room. Kingsley shook his head over and over. “Shit!” he yelled. “That’s bloody awful. So, Krum basically destroyed Ron’s brain?” He stood up and his towering figure paced swiftly about the office, his colourful robes rustling about the carpet.

Harry sunk even lower into his chair. Finally, the tears flowed. He didn’t care if Kingsley thought him weak. Ron had been there for everything, from that very first moment on the train. He’d been the first wizard to treat him as a friend and not the freak known as the boy who lived. They’d fought giant spiders, basilisks, figured out the Chamber of Secrets, endured the horror of the dementors and then fought side by side with the Order of the Phoenix to defeat Riddle. Harry pounded his fists on the sides of his chair. “No! no! no! This can’t be it for Ron. I don’t accept it. There must be someone somewhere who can help. Someone who knows this dark magic Krum used. I DON’T ACCEPT IT,” he screamed.

Harry bolted out of his chair and grabbed Kingsley by the shoulders. “There has to be something we can do,” he screeched. “Please, Kings, do something!”

Harry’s beleaguered face tugged at Kingsley’s heart but the dynamic Minister for Magic who had been so heroic in many ways knew this one fight he and Harry Potter would lose. He took Harry’s arms in his large hands and held them to his heart. “Harry, I would give anything if I could bring Ron back for you. I don’t know what to do. We have the best healers in the world right here in England and they…”

Harry pulled away. “WE DON’T NEED GREAT HEALERS,” he shouted. “WE NEED DARK MAGIC. WE NEED TO UNDO WHAT KRUM DID TO HIM. Please!” he begged. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head. “Please,” he whispered.

Kingsley wrapped the young heroic wizard into his arms and held Harry as he cried. He didn’t know what else to do until a light bulb metaphorically went on over his head. The wily Minister didn’t say anything but now he had a plan. If only it would work.  
#

Hermione and Lucius came back into the manor after a light stroll in the brisk afternoon air. Lucius guided Hermione into the small drawing room which was now a sofa, a few chairs, a writing desk with a chair, and beautiful windows that looked out onto the Manor’s manicured grounds. They sat down side by side as Lucius summoned a bottle of wine and poured each of them a glass. “What shall we drink to?” he asked in all earnestness.

“How about to new beginnings?” Hermione said hopefully.

“Yes! To new beginnings.”

They clinked glasses and sipped at their wine. Almost together they put their glasses down. Lucius took Hermione’s hands in his. “I’ve been wanting to speak with you for a while now. Well, since we shared that amazing kiss,” he smiled.

Hermione nodded and blinked. “It was amazing,” she whispered.

“Well then, let’s repeat the experience.” Lucius tilted Hermione’s chin upwards and kissed her gently at first. Soon he wrapped his arms about her waist, and she wrapped hers about his broad shoulders. The two engaged in a long, languid kiss until Lucius pulled back. Hermione’s confusion showed and Lucius smiled. “I’m stopping for a good reason,” he said quietly. “The fact is I think it’s only fair to tell you exactly what it is I want. That is, what I’m hoping for.”

“I’m all ears,” Hermione replied.

Lucius took in a deep breath and sighed. “For some time now, I’ve known that I want to share my life with someone. But this time around I want it to be someone of my own choosing. Not an arranged match for convenience and political expediency. A match for love. And I want to have children; several of them. I want a nice, big magical family. Not only that, I want to court you the way a proper wizard should do.”

Hermione almost laughed out loud at the notion of being courted, but luckily as the bookworm she was, she’d read quite a bit about pureblood courting rituals back in school as the whole subject fascinated her. “I’d be delighted,” she said in the most buoyant voice she could muster.

Lucius grabbed her once more and far more eagerly this time. The two kissed each other with passion and abandon. The older wizard pulled the young witch onto his lap and she wrapped her arms about him. They eagerly explored each other’s mouths as they had only a few moments ago. Lucius gently lifted Hermione’s shirt and slid his hand underneath onto her bare back. His breath hitched and she gasped as they felt each other – skin on skin.

Hermione felt the strong weight of Lucius’ hands on her slender back; the way he massaged her spine in small circles with a soft touch. She briefly opened her eyes and saw the stars in the sky through the window to the garden. Lucius’ cheeks had a light 5 o’clock stubble which lightly scratched her face. She liked it. The feeling of his tongue against hers caused a heavy dampness to form between her legs. And, she sensed the blossoming of the wizard’s erection against her thighs. Hermione pulled Lucius even closer to her. As she did, he responded by feasting on her neck with deep, wet kisses. The two crashed into other with the desire which had been building between them. Lucius pulled slightly back to gaze into Hermione’s eyes. Her chocolate brown orbs were fluid with desire. She sighed as he moved his hands to the front of her body and softly cupped her breasts. He teased her and tickled her with his breath on her shoulders.

Suddenly Hermione pulled back to stare at Lucius. “I…I..uh.. think we might be getting ahead of ourselves a bit.”

Lucius let go and then hugged her fiercely. “As you wish,” he said in a husky voice. “I’ll always only do as you wish,” he said.

“It isn’t that I don’t want to be with you but I don’t want to rush things either.” She pulled down her blouse and offered him a demure smile.

“Of course,” he said. “Perhaps we could go out for an evening together?” he asked in a hopeful tone.

“I’d love to,” Hermione said excitedly. “But now that my house is mended I should be heading home. It’s been a long day.” She stood up, gathered her things and prepared to leave.

Lucius quickly held onto one of her arms. “I haven’t made you feel uncomfortable have I?” he asked in a slightly hesitant voice.

“No,” she said confidently. “I love being with you, but I do want to take it slow, if that’s okay.”

The wizard smiled. “Of course. We’ll see each other soon.”

With that, Hermione disappeared in a flash of green.

Lucius continued to pace about the room for hours after Hermione had left. He couldn’t shut his brain off no matter how hard he tried. The moments with Hermione replayed before him over and over – the feeling of holding her small frame in his muscular arms, the warmth of her wet kisses, and…What was that intruding into his thoughts? Someone yelling?  
“Lucius, may I step through?”   
Lucius spun around to see the head of Kingsley in his fireplace. “Of course.”  
The Minister strode into Lucius’ home with a bright smile and a proffered hand. “Good to see you doing so well,” he said in a welcoming voice.  
“Thank you. Welcome. What can I offer you?”   
“Nothing thanks. I came here to speak with you about an urgent matter I hope you can help me with.”  
Lucius couldn’t imagine how he could help the Minister of Magic but the thought of being useful again filled him with excitement and trepidation. “Of course, you know I’d do anything to be helpful.” He showed Kingsley to a comfortable chair and the two wizards sat opposite each other.  
“I don’t know if you realize this Lucius, but Ronald Weasley is still doing very poorly. We’ve had our top healers look at him several times, and now that we have Krum in custody, we’ve had him try to reverse what he did, but he can only go so far. Poor Ron is left with a great deal of residual problems.”  
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lucius said with genuine concern. “I know Hermione has been greatly distressed over the matter. But, how can I help?” Lucius’ tone spoke of his complete innocence in the matter.   
‘Well, here’s where it gets tricky. Of course we’re not supposed to sanction dark magic. And, I wouldn’t want to put you in a bad position. But, I was wondering if from your days of associating with Riddle, you might have learned a thing or two?” Kingsley’s voice dropped off as he honestly didn’t know how else to say what he needed to say.   
“Oh, I see,” Lucius said and his face fell. “You want me to use dark magic to help young Ronald?” He shifted uneasily in his chair.   
Kingsley coughed and then leaned forward. “The thing is, we don’t know what to do. I thought perhaps you might know something or someone?”   
Lucius’ face turned cloudy. He stood up and walked towards the window. For a moment, he stared at the glittering stars in the sky to remind himself of how Hermione had watched them in wonder only a few hours ago. Now Kingsley had reminded him of the most painful period in his life; his time with Voldemort. A sick feeling filled his stomach. He felt nauseous and a bit of bile filled his throat. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck and slid down his spine in a frigid reminder of violent days in the past. He turned around. Lucius knew he couldn’t avoid this. “You see, Minister, there’s nothing I would like better than to help, but I don’t like to be reminded of those days. I’m doing everything I can to purge them and be a better man. Can you understand that?” His tone pleaded for Kingsley to have a heart for his situation.   
“I do, Lucius. Really, I do.” He stood up and sidled up beside the once dark wizard. “But this isn’t about darkness. It’s quite the opposite. You’d be helping us to save someone’s life.”  
Lucius shoved his hands in his pockets and stood in a moment of deep meditation. He tried to imagine that Krum had done this horrible thing to Draco, and that now it was his son, not Ron who lay in the bed in St. Mungo’s with no hope to his future. “What kinds of problems do you speak of?”  
“Well, he still stutters badly and his hands shake. He can walk although he tires easily. The worst is his memory. Not only does he not remember being an Auror, he doesn’t even know what an Auror is.”  
“Merlin’s Beard,” Lucius shouted. “He was obliviated?”  
Kingsley shook his head. “Krum says it wasn’t that curse but something more insipid. He called it the Dissipation Curse. It slowly winds its way through the body and dissipates the body’s memories and abilities to form new ones.”  
Lucius trembled at the words. “I’ve heard of that curse,” he said as he slumped back down into his chair. He dropped his head into his hands and sat there in quiet reflection for several moments. “I never thought it to be used,” he said. “Even Riddle didn’t use that curse. In fact, he was terrified of it.”  
Kinsgley sat back down again as well. “Why?”  
“It has a rebound effect. It can rebound on the spell caster in terrible ways. The spell eats away at the person’s soul and they become something almost inhuman.” Lucius spoke in a careful whisper. “I would be very nervous to try and undo such a spell. It could have severe consequences.”   
“Oh.” Kingsley’s face betrayed his disappointment. His face fell. He folded his hands and dropped them into his lap. But then he suddenly brightened. “Wait a minute. Perhaps you and Hermione could work on this together? She could help you research a safe way of using the spell so that no one gets hurt?” Kingsley had to believe this could work.   
For the first time since their conversation began, Lucius smiled. “Yes, if anyone can figure it out, it’s Hermione Granger. I’ll ask her immediately.”  
Kingsley clapped his hands with fervour. “Thank you, Lucius. Maybe I’ll have a brandy after all!”  
Lucius poured their drinks and in another rather surreal moment, the two wizards sat by the fire and chatted as if they were two old-time friends.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here it is the chapter where Lucius and Hermione finally...I leave it to your imaginations. I admit sex scenes are not my forte, so I do hope this is as good for the reader as it was for the characters.

If for any other reason

Lucius relished the feeling of the physical therapist kneeding his leg muscles. He’d never felt so attended to by any other healer. The Muggle therapist’s hands were strong and firm yet gentle and caring. He sighed deeply as he laid on the therapist’s table and she continued to massage his leg with the knowledge of exactly where he needed to be touched. As she rubbed his muscles, he couldn’t help but think of how it would feel if Hermione would do the same. His silver eyes flew open as he felt a slight tug in his groin. He couldn’t have an erection here. Not now. Lucius forced himself to think of something thoroughly unpleasant. It wasn’t hard. He transported himself back to that moment when Voldemort returned from the dead and his entire body sank into fear and disgust.

“That’s it for today,” Geraldine said. “I feel your muscles are healing well. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a fast healer.” She offered him a kind smile as she moved away and went to wash her hands.

Lucius sat up, grateful that nothing untoward had happened. “Yes, I’ve always been a fast healer. Thank you for your expert care.” He eased himself off the table wrapped in a white cotton sheet.

“My pleasure. I think a few more sessions ought to do it. Keep up the swimming. That’s very important. Other than that you’re doing really well.”

She slipped out the door and Lucius sat back down. He laughed quietly at his own silliness. Imagine if he’d had an erection thinking about Hermione when the physical therapist was working on him. Lucius quickly dressed, paid his bill and left. Outside in Muggle London he stood on the sidewalk and surveyed the scenes. People rushing to their jobs, parents tugging on their kids, teenagers transfixed by their cellphones and other devices he couldn’t name, the sounds of automobiles on the roads, airplanes in the skies and…he realized he’d gotten accustomed to these sights and sounds. They no longer bothered him. Muggle London seemed…well…normal. He walked quietly to a nearby alleyway and disapparated.

#

Draco sat in the psychologist’s office his knees bouncing up and down. Although he’d been here for several sessions already, he still felt nervous as he shared his innermost feelings. He’d been raised to submerge those feelings from the very father who now encouraged him to do the opposite. He laid his head in hand and wondered if other wizards and witches were going through the same experience. Had they been traumatized? What about all the young students who fought in the Battle at Hogwarts? How were they coping? Did they just walk away and forget everything that happened? Draco fully recalled that day.

Curses in multiple colours flew across the room. Students and teachers battled Death Eaters as each one tried to gain the advantage. Wands bobbed up and down in the air, people jumped from one side to the another to try and out-duel their opponent. He and his parents sat shaking in the corner. They did nothing. They’d helped no one. They just sat in the corner and watched while everyone else fought for their lives. Tears dripped down Draco’s shame-filled cheeks. He hated himself in that moment. He slammed his fist down onto the chair of the arm.

The doctor’s therapist briefly stared at him and decided he was okay. Dr. Rosenberg opened the door and ushered Draco in. The 55-year-old doctor had already lost most of his hair except for a few grey tufts here and there. His wire-rimmed glasses were forever slipping down his nose, and he was always pushing them back. They sat in their usual spots and began. “How are you doing this week, Draco?” Dr. Rosenberg spoke with his usual kind, quiet voice. His notepad sat on his lap with a pen poised at the ready.

“I’m okay,” Draco said in an unconvinced, shaky tone. “I had another nightmare this week about Voldemort in the house. He used to torture my father when things didn’t go right for him.” Draco hung his head.

“How did you feel when you saw that?”

“How did I feel?” Draco shouted. “Bloody awful. Sick to my stomach. And that fucking bastard used to make me and my mother stand there and watch. And, my father took it for us too.” Draco squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his fists onto the armchair. “I hated that bastard and what he did to us in our own home!”

Dr. Rosenberg nodded. “Is that what the nightmare was; your father being tortured?”

“No,” Draco said in a quiet voice. “This time it was me. I was the one being tortured while my parents stood by unable to do anything.”

“I’m so sorry for that,” Dr. Rosenberg said in a sympathetic voice. “Are you doing the deep breathing and relaxation exercises I showed you?”

“Yeah, and it helps afterwards but can’t you stop them?” Draco wrung his hands.

“Unfortunately not. Only time will do that. Once you’ve come to terms with what happened, I believe they’ll stop. Since I can’t give you any medication, I’d like to suggest you begin taking a natural remedy called St. John’s Wort. Best to check it out with one of your healers first though. I think the remedy will give you another level of support and relief.”

Draco leaned back and shook his head. “This whole bloody mess is just one fucking nightmare.”

“That’s what we’re here to try and resolve,” the doctor said. “I absolutely believe you’ll get better with time. The nightmares have become significantly reduced, you’re far less anxious, and you feel much brighter and more at east than you did when you first came to me several weeks ago. Do you agree?”

Draco nodded and he smiled for the first time that day. As he did, his mind returned to the lovely Charlaine. He hadn’t thought of her in a while and wondered if there was anything he could do to re-connect with her. Quickly his mind shifted back and he allowed himself to fully focus on the moment and he realized, he felt completely safe.

#

Hermione laid on her sofa, a pillow under her head and one under her knees to relax her whole body. Crookshanks purred by her side on the floor nearby. She was indulging in her favourite past-time. A good book and a glass of wine. A knock on the front door pulled from her state of calm and she heard a familiar voice.

“Hermione, it’s me Lucius. Are you home?”

Eagerly, she laid down her book, gulped her wine and ran to the door. Lucius offered her a warm smile as she let him in. “This is a nice surprise. I hope it’s not another legal case though.”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” Lucius said in his rich, baritone voice. “Although I have come to seek your help with something at the request of Kingsley himself.”

Hermione furrowed her brow. She couldn’t image what could have prompted Kingsley to ask Lucius to come to her for help. Lucius sat down in one of the over-stuffed chairs next to her fireplace. The warm afternoon sunlight beamed through the open curtains and despite the small size, Lucius found Hermione’s home to be decorated in lovely shades of blues and greens. “Can I offer you a glass of wine?”

Lucius nodded and Hermione quickly found another bottle and poured them both a glass of a white Chardonnay she’d recently purchased. She’d spent way too much on the wine but figured Lucius would appreciate it. Lucius sipped at the wine and hummed quietly in pleasure.

“A lovely vintage, thank you. But, let me get right to the point. As you and I know, your friend Ron as cursed by Victor Krum. Last night, Kingsley informed me that Krum admitted he’d used a rare, dark curse called the Dissipation Curse.” He took another sip of the wine and waited for Hermione’s response.

She shook her head. “I don’t know what that is, but what does it mean for Ron?” She bit her bottom lip.

“It means that if we can’t heal him and free him of the curse, he won’t die, but he’ll descend into complete insanity.”

“What?” Hermione screeched. “But, he’s been looking so much better.”

Lucius folded his hands in his lap and endeavoured to remain calm. “My dear Hermione, he’s recovered to some degree, but that’s the nature of the curse. It allows the person to recover and they think they’re going to be okay. They begin to resume some of their former activities and quickly the body realizes it can’t do these things again. The curse begins to eat the person from the inside out and they literally go insane with trying to be “their normal self”. It’s an odd curse and frankly I never thought anyone would be cruel enough to use it. Not even Voldemort would use it. In fact, he was terrified of it.”

Hermione’s eyes flew open wide. “Voldemort was scared of this curse. Why?”

“Because, there is a rebound effect on the user and the person who tries to remove it.”

“What kind of rebound effect?” Hermione’s voice had slipped into a mere whisper.

“The one who utters the curse can also go insane, as can the person who tries to remove it.” Lucius stood up and moved towards Hermione. He sat next to her on the sofa and draped a strong arm around her petite shoulders. “But, Kingsley wants you and I to try and find any way we can to remove this curse safely and save your friend.”

Hermione stared over at Lucius. She’d become accustomed to the sight, feel and smell of him. The only word that came to mind for her was ‘erotic’. He was purely sensual, masculine and sitting right next to her. Her breath quickened and so did his. She turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his chest and dropped her head onto his shoulder. Lucius responded by engulfing her in his arms.

They held on to each other as if the entire world had drifted away and they were the only two people left in the world. Hermione reached up and wrapped her finger around a long strand of his blond hair which had fallen onto his forehead. She gently put the strand back into place as she ran her fingers through his long tresses. Lucius leaned in and kissed her on the lips with a fervour borne of desire and passion. He felt an intense yearning for the young witch such as he’d never experienced before.

Lucius brushed his lips against Hermione’s as he slid his hands under her light t-shirt. Hermione rubbed her cheek against his. She smelled his cologne which was a musky combination of spices which were fresh with vetiver (essential oil), rosewood and oakmoss. She breathed him in and concentrated on soothing effect on her senses.

As Hermione kissed the tip of Lucius’ nose he threw back his head and laughed. He responded by licking and kissing the side of her neck – one side and then the other. They immersed themselves in each other with complete abandon. Within minutes Lucius slipped off his sweater and then he took Hermione’s top off.

He seared his eyes onto the beauty that was her soft, round breasts in a pink, lace bra. He cupped both her breasts and said in a deep voice; “expecting company?” It was Hermione’s turn to laugh. Lucius picked Hermione up in his arms and she pointed to the stairs. He carried her up and strode into her bedroom. His eyes took in the lovely simplicity of the room; a four poster pine bed with turquoise, white and blue floral bedding, a pine dresser, silk curtains in turquoise and gold along with numerous photographs of friends and family on the walls. He laid her on the bed, unbuttoned his slacks and slid onto the bed beside her.

Together they worked her out of her jeans and Lucius stared into Hermione’s chocolate brown eyes. “I feel as if I’ve been waiting for you forever,” she said. Lucius was helpless to resist her in any way. The only thing his mind could focus on was making exquisite love to the young witch he’d fallen in love with. Finally, divested of their clothes, the two lay naked, side by side on Hermione’s bed.

The witch’s sweet smile made Lucius weak in the knees. He felt as if he would buckle under the swell of emotions he felt in that moment – love, respect, friendship and desire. The wizard pulled the young witch on top of him and gently rolled her hips in his hands. Her desire dripped onto his cock and Lucius writhed with pleasure, as Hermione massaged his member between her legs.

She leaned forward to kiss his lips, then eagerly moved on to his neck, shoulders, chest and then onto his groin. Lucius growled as she explored his body. He inhaled the scent of her perfume – rosehips, jasmine and lavender. He spread his legs wider and she rubbed the muscular sinews of his thighs and calves.

His soft grey-blue eyes swept into her own, as he finally immersed himself inside other. They kissed and fucked almost as two lovers intoxicated with the sheer delight of being together. The two crashed with their orgasms and then held each other close.

“That was spectacular,” Lucius breathed into Hermione’s ear.

“That’s what I call making love,” she replied.

All they could do in that moment was continue to remain wrapped in each other’s arms.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mystery surrounding Ron's illness deepens and Lucius and Hermione are about to set out on an adventure.

Chapter 18  
Lucius awoke to see a brilliant sun stream its light through the windows. Egyptian cotton sheets felt glorious on his naked body as he became acutely aware of the young, beautiful woman in his arms. He leaned over and smiled at the sight of Hermione’s eyes fluttering open. Lucius pulled her closer to him as he felt his growing erection rub against the softness of her warm, round, arse. Hermione giggled as he whispered in her ear: “Good morning my sexy witch.”  
“Good morning my sexy wizard, and…holy shit is that your cock?” She giggled again as he rubbed furiously against her.  
“It better damn well be mine because if it isn’t then…”  
Lucius was cut short by a demanding knock on his bedroom door.  
“Father, are you awake?” Draco continued knocking.  
“Bloody hell!” Lucius groaned. “That boy has the worst timing ever! Give me a few minutes Draco and I’ll be out.”  
“Oi, can I come in?”  
“No!” Lucius screamed.  
“I guess we better get up then?”  
It was then that he realized his erection had drooped off. Hermione turned to face him, a deeply disappointed look on her face. She sunk her head into his chest and kissed his shoulder.  
“My son is going to get such a lecture…”  
“No!” Hermione insisted. “Lucius, he has no idea that you and I are together. It’s not his fault.”  
Lucius stared into Hermione’s chocolate brown eyes full of compassion for his son, and he knew he couldn’t deny her. “You’re right, of course. But that was just the most disappointing morning ever.”  
“Except when You Know Who was here,” Hermione said as she lifted herself off the four poster king-sized bed.  
“Yes, except for that,” Lucius admitted as he followed her into the bathroom.  
The two quickly changed into respectable attire and walked into the informal dining room for breakfast where Draco was already tucked into his sausages, eggs and toast. He looked up and his pale blue eyes registered the truth. Pieces of egg dripped off his lips and his fork clattered down onto his plate. He quickly wiped his mouth clean as Lucius stood with his arm protectively around Hermione’s shoulders.  
“Morning, Draco. May I say that we need to discuss your timing?” He proceeded to pour himself and Hermione large mugs of coffee, topped with crème and sugar.  
“Sorry, Father. Sorry, Hermione. I didn’t know.” He shrugged sheepishly.  
Hermione gently patted Draco on the shoulder before sitting down. “It’s no big deal. But, yes, your father and I have developed a very close relationship.” She stared into Lucius’ crystal clear eyes for confirmation.  
In response, Lucius leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Need I say more?”  
Draco shook his head. Hermione sipped her coffee. Lucius sat back and felt just a tad on top of the world.  
#  
Harry, Ginny, Molly and Arthur sat across from Healer Sebastian, an elderly and highly respected healer at St. Mungo’s. The foursome sat together in a lovely new courtyard created for families and patients at the hospital. Healer Sebastian’s face told the story. His eyes cast down, he seemed to struggle to find his words.  
“I…I…wish I could say something more encouraging today. Ronald has had some improvements…but then….then…each time he improves a bit, he just falls further back. I’m told this is a fact of the curse that’s been used against him.” He shook his head and fell silent.  
“So that’s it then?” Molly screeched. “You’re just giving up on my son? He’s a war hero for goodness sakes. He helped bring down Volde…”  
“Yes, yes, Molly, they know that. We don’t have to keep repeating that every time we come here.” He tried to take her hands in his own but she shoved him aside.  
“How dare you turn away from your own son? That’s disgusting. I’m disgusted with the lot of you. Now, what are you going to do about my son?” She stood up and whipped out her wand and aimed it at the elderly healer.  
“Molly, put your wand down!” Arthur insisted.  
She turned back towards him, tears streaming down her face. “Wh…wh…about….m…my…my son?”  
“Our son dear. He’s my son too.” Arthur tried to embrace her but she pushed him away again.  
“Then do something!” she screamed. “Help him. Please, help him.” Molly fell into Arthur’s arms and sobbed. “Please…help him.”  
“Isn’t there anything else that can be done?” Harry asked in a voice flush with desperation. He gripped Ginny’s hands as he faced Healer Sebastian.  
“My understanding is that the Ministry is going to go after the wizard who concocted this horrible curse in order to get a cure out of him. The wizard who used it, this Krum fellow, only knew how to cast it, but nothing else. Very foolish of him and very irresponsible.”  
Molly continued to shriek and sob as Arthur held her helpless to do anything.  
“Who’s going to go after this wizard?” Ginny asked.  
“I don’t know,” the healer admitted. “You need to ask the Ministry. Now, I have other patients to attend to. I’m very sorry.” He walked off slowly and headed back into the hospital leaving the four grieving relatives to wonder what if anything was going to be done for the poor young wizard who’d risked his life to help Harry Potter bring down Voldemort.  
#  
Hermione found Draco sitting on a bench in the rose garden contemplating a group of violet-coloured roses. “They’re gorgeous,” she said in a quiet voice.  
Draco turned around and smiled. “My mother’s favourite.”  
Hermione joined him. “Draco, are you okay with…?”  
Draco stopped her with a hand to her lips. “Yes! In fact, I was pretty sure I saw the signs a while ago but wasn’t completely sure. In any case, I think the two of you make a great couple, but I’ll say this. He’s not an easy man to live with, Hermione, even with all the changes he’s made. He’s an enormously strong-willed man who’s used to getting his own way. Part of that comes with being the wealthiest wizard in Europe and one of the wealthiest in the world. All that money gives you a lot of power.” He smiled and shrugged.  
“One of the wealthiest in the world?” Hermione’s mouth fell open and she blinked several times. “Are you sure?”  
Draco nodded. “I know my Dad’s finances. We went through everything just after the war. Even with all the millions of galleons that bastard took from us, it barely made a dent. Plus, I know he’s got money in what Muggles call “off-shore accounts” in some place called the Cayman Islands. Not entirely sure what all that means, but I know he’s protected us with those reserves, as he calls them.” Draco shrugged again and patted Hermione’s cheek. “Welcome to the wealthy wizard elite, Hermione.”  
Hermione bolted up and paced about. “I hope your father doesn’t think I want his money! What do I do? What should I say to him?”  
“How should I know? You’re the one sleeping with him. Work it out. I’ve got my own shit to deal with.”  
Hermione nodded. “How’s that going by the way?”  
“I gotta admit, this therapy stuff really works. I love being able to talk to someone about me and just me. And, not only does she really listen, but she comes up with these great exercises for me to do to help with my PTSD. I definitely feel like I’m getting better. Slowly, but still it’s working.”  
“Oh, I’m so happy.” Hermione bounded forward and grabbed Draco in a fierce hug.  
The two laughed loudly until they heard a familiar voice. “Hmmmm. And, what am I to make of this?”  
They turned around and saw Lucius striding forward towards them. Hermione leapt away and jumped into his arms. “This,” she said as she kissed him full on.  
The two kissed each other passionately for a moment until another interruption took place. “Oh for goodness sakes, get a room,” Draco insisted.  
“Well, we might just do that,” Hermione said, her arms about Lucius’ waist.  
“As they say, two is company and three is a crowd.” With that, he disapparated away.  
“Hmmmm, you have quite the effect on Malfoy men,” he whispered in a husky voice.  
“I’d be glad to have more of an effect on you in another location, like your bedroom.”  
“Ms. Granger, did you just make an indecent proposal?” Lucius tilted his head and did his best to appear utterly serious.  
“Oh yes.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.  
“Good. I was getting quite impatient.”  
In the next few seconds they landed in Lucius’ suite. “Now then, let’s pick up where we were so rudely interrupted this morning, shall we?”  
“We shall,” Hermione said with a broad smile. “In fact, I’m wearing some very sexy lingerie I’d love to show you.”  
“Can’t wait to take it off you then,” Lucius said as he grabbed her arse, pulled her close and kissed her hard on the lips. He lifted her up and carried her back to the bed they’d left unwillingly that morning. Lucius laid her down and then positioned himself on several large pillows. “Now, let’s see that sexy lingerie,” he demanded.  
Hermione stood up on the bed and slowly, removed each item of clothing until she was down to a matching set of deep purple lace bra and panties.  
“Hmmmmm,” Lucius moaned as he licked his lips.  
Hermione stuck her tongue out as she pranced about on the bed. She egged him forwards with her hands. “Come to me my big, powerful wizard.”  
Lucius stood up, removed his clothing and once again lifted her into his arms. “I’ll show you what big, powerful wizard can do, my love. First, take off your sexy bra and panties. Now!”  
“Yes, Master,” she responded in a coy voice.  
Lucius set her back down and re-positioned himself on the pillows. Through half-closed eyes he watched as Hermione removed her violet-coloured lingerie.  
“Now, witch, come here,” Lucius demanded, as he patted to a spot on the bed next to him.  
Hermione obeyed.  
“You’ve been very naughty you know, making me wait to make love to you,” he said in a deep, masculine tone.  
“Have I?” Hermione batted her eyelashes and laughed.  
“Yes you have and now I’ll have to punish you.” He turned her over and proceeded to lick her arse – every inch of it. Then, he latched on to the space between her legs and licked her there with a hungry, eager tongue.  
Hermione gasped with pleasure at Lucius’ talented tongue.  
Lucius pushed Hermione onto her hands and knees. He felt his throbbing erection pulse with a demanding eroticism he’d never experienced before. Every inch of his rock-hard cock vibrated with desire until he positioned himself in front of Hermione’s arse, grabbed both her hips and thrust himself inside of her. Hermione rocked onto his cock as he thrust and pushed his way in and out. He growled as he felt the slick, wet heat of her cunt and his cock impatient and in ecstasy with each other. Lucius continued to pound into her with all of his muscular strength. Hermione met him stride for stride with strong legs and hips. He slid into her and she pushed back onto him until they cried out in a dual orgasm that threw them both onto their backs.  
Hermione turned over and kiss Lucius passionately. His tongue met hers as they danced inside each other’s mouths. Lucius pulled Hermione closer, his face wet with sweat, his legs sticky with their cum, and the smell of each on and inside of them. Hermione massaged Lucius’ chest in soft, round circles, as he rubbed her back. They stared into each other’s eyes with no need for words or sounds, just the knowledge of their growing love holding them together.  
#  
Lucius rubbed his red-rimmed eyes as he and Hermione stared at the plethora of books and parchment on Lucius’ desk. His shoulders slumped as he sat back in his chair and laid his head on the back and massaged his neck. “Bloody hell,” he finally said when he sat up. “This isn’t much to go on.”  
Hermione laid her chin in her hands. “I agree, but it’s all we’ve got. Some fellow named Constantine in Romania seems to be responsible for this horrible curse.”  
Lucius stared at Hermione as he pursed his lips. “So, you and I are supposed to trek all the way to some unnamed, remote Romanian village and just start asking about a wizard named Constantine?”  
“Well, he’s mentioned in a lot of these documents as being a ‘dark wizard of note’ and supposedly had some connections with Voldemort.”  
“Every dark wizard supposedly had a connection with Voldemort,” Lucius said, his voice heavy with frustration. He blew out air and pushed back his chair in disgust. “It seems it’s all we’ve got.”  
“So, we’re going then?”  
“I prefer you stay home and I’ll go with a group of Aurors,” Lucius said not too confidently.  
“Forget it. I’m going.” Hermione stood up to the tall, older wizard, hands at her side, and her chin up in the air. “You may be taller, but you need my help, and you know it.”  
Lucius grinned. “Yes, I admit it.” He enfolded her in his arms and held her close.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Lucius have an amazing adventure. Draco finds there is such a thing as second chances in life.

Lucius and Hermione trudged in the muck and dirt as a light snowfall dusted the ground. Lucius draped a strong arm around Hermione’s shoulders and pulled her close. Suddenly, she stopped. Hermione squinted and pointed at what appeared to be a small village. 

“There! Do you see that?” 

Lucius shielded his eyes with one hand and stared intensely into the distance. “Yes! That must be it. This must be the place people have been telling us about for the last few weeks. Come on.” The two picked up their pace as best they could. They each pulled their parkas tighter about their bodies as the light snow transformed into a snow storm. 

With each step their vision became less clear, as snow pellets rained down upon them. Their faces wet and cold from the onslaught they finally set foot in the small, Romanian village they believed to be the home of the infamous Constantine. Both of them were grateful for a small inn they found and stepped inside to earn a respite from the storm. The moment they did, a few dozen villagers’ eyes turned towards them fully aware these were strangers in a town where strangers didn’t often enter. Lucius and Hermione slowly dusted themselves off and sat down at the only empty table. 

An older woman in a traditional red and black skirt, white blouse and kerchief on her head trudged over and stood next to them hands on hips. She spoke in a heavy Romanian accent which Hermione didn’t understand but Lucius did. The two had prepared diligently for this mission, and fortunately, Lucius had a knack for languages. She took her time but brought over a fair-sized bottle of plum brandy, along with something she called; Ciorbă de fasole cu afumătură (a vegetable and meat soup), followed by Frigărui - Romanian-style shish-kebab. 

The food proved to be delicious and fortunately, Lucius’ charm worked wonders with the couple who owned the inn and they were grateful to be given a room to stay in. Although slightly old-fashioned by 21st century standards, it was nevertheless beautiful; wooden beams criss-crossed on the ceiling, a heavy wooden floor was covered with a lovely hand-woven carpet, and a double bed, dresser and two chairs filled out the space. Their window over-looked the village. Hermione flopped down on the bed. “I’m exhausted,” she moaned. Lucius lay down beside her and tenderly ran his hands over her legs. “How tired?” he whispered in that husky voice Hermione had grown to love. 

“Oh, that massage feels good,” she said.

He continued to rub her legs with strength and ease. Much to his chagrin however, within moments Hermione had fallen asleep. “Well,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair. “She said she was tired and she meant it.” He quickly undressed and lay down beside her.

 

# As Draco approached the coffee shop, he felt that familiar sense of queasiness when anxiety would disrupt his every thought and feeling. But, soon he remembered his therapy and, sat down on a nearby bench and took 10 deep breaths. Afterwards, his calm returned, and he strolled into the coffee shop, where he and Charlane had agreed to meet. It had taken several emails where he basically laid his heart out on his sleeve and she finally relented. Once inside he saw her sitting and nursing a large mug of something hot. He offered a bright smile and sat down.

“Hi Charlane. Thanks for coming to see me.” For a few moments she said nothing. 

She didn’t even look at him. Once again, Draco felt the familiar nausea of his anxiety rising. But, then she spoke. “Well, you were very persistent.” 

“Charlane, I know what I told you must have been an enormous shock, but I felt I had to tell you the truth. For me, to date someone outside of our community was a huge step, but I would never have taken it if I didn’t like you as much as I do.” 

Charlane pursed her lips and held onto her coffee mug for dear life. “So, it’s true?” she whispered as she leaned forwards. “You’re a…a…well….you know….what you said.” 

Draco nodded. “A wizard. Yup. There are many magical communities around the world but a few centuries ago, the leaders of our communities got together and created the International Statute of Secrecy, to protect both sides. We’re not really supposed to reveal ourselves, but some do. In fact, my Dad’s involved with a witch who had non-magical parents!” 

Charlane’s eyes bugged open. “Are you serious? Non-magic people can have magical children? I mean…how?” Draco shrugged his shoulders. “Couldn’t say. But it happens. Anyways, the important thing is I wanted you to know that it wasn’t some stupid story I told you, and to prove it, I’ll show you my world.” 

Charlane set down her mug and sat back. “You would do that, even though you’re not supposed to?” 

“Yeah. Cause I like you; a lot.” Draco slowly slipped his hands forwards and touched the tips of Charlane’s fingers. Eventually they linked hands and smiled. 

“I like you a lot too, and I’m sorry I doubted you. I just didn’t know how to deal with it.” 

“Well, come take my hand and I’ll show you some real magic.” Charlane’s eyes brightened and she grabbed her reddening cheeks with her palms. 

“Okay, let’s go!” 

# Hermione watch and Lucius and the male inn-keeper bartered back and forth. They needed to know where Constantine lived, but the inn-keeper kept insisting he didn’t know anything which Lucius didn’t believe. After an hour of arguing and exasperating each other, the inn-keeper relented. He wrote something down on a small piece of paper which Lucius shoved into his pocket. Lucius nodded in that gentlemanly way of his towards the man, grabbed Hermione, their coats and strode outside. They quickly dressed. 

“What’s going on?” Hermione demanded. 

“What’s going on? I’ll tell you.” Lucius turned towards her his normally placid face roiling with turmoil. “That man knew from the beginning where we can find this bastard of a wizard, but is so damn afraid of him that he didn’t want to tell me. Apparently, this Constantine fellow has the whole village terrified of him.” 

“That’s horrible,” Hermione said in her usual indignant voice. 

“Yes. No wonder he and Voldemort found each other. Two dark wizards who love to terrorize people. Come on!” Lucius grabbed Hermione by the arm as they sped down the lane towards the distant edge of the town. 

“Where are we going?” Hermione yelled. Lucius pointed to a small, square wooden house with a thatched roof in the distance. “There!” 

The trek took far longer than they had hoped. Obviously, Constantine had made his home appear to be closer than it actually was to the town. Instead of being only a ten-minute walk as they thought it would be, it took them over two hours. They finally stood on the stoop and knocked. After a few moments, a beautiful young woman with long, dark hair answered the door. 

“Yes?” she said in perfect English. “What do you want?” 

“We’re looking for Constantine,” Lucius said in his best, arrogant voice. “Is that so?” the woman answered obviously not intimidated at all. 

“What makes you think anyone by that name is here?” She narrowed her eyes and stared both Lucius and Hermione up and down. An obvious sneer covered her face when she looked at Hermione, but she softened noticeably when she looked at Lucius. 

“Because we’re wizards that’s why,” Lucius said hands on his hips. To make it obvious, he pulled Hermione close to him with an arm about her waist. 

The woman smiled, then laughed. “You’re wizards? Ha! There’s no such thing as…” 

“Stupefy!” The word was out of Lucius’ mouth so fast it even started Hermione. The woman flew backwards into the house, and Lucius and Hermione strode inside. By a hearth-fire sat an elderly man who almost looked like he could have been a doppelganger for Albus Dumbledore. Tall and thin with long, white hair, and a beard to match which grew down to his chest, his feet were covered with old, leather sandals, and wire-rim glasses covered his rheumy eyes. He pulled his heavy, grey wool cloak about him and stood up to greet his unwanted guests. 

“So, you found me. What do you want?” he asked in a gravelly voice which quavered as if he was in the late stages of Parkinson’s Disease.

“We only want you to help us heal a friend,” Hermione answered in a tender, neutral tone which she hoped would appease the dark wizard. 

Constantine ignored her and padded over to his young friend and revived her. She stared with malice at Lucius, but with a few words from the elderly wizard she quickly left the room. “You come to me for help but you injure my friend.” Constantine continued to glide towards them. “I know who you are. You are Lucius Malfoy, the wealthy wizard who turned his back on Lord Voldemort and his fellow purebloods. And you, my dear, are Hermione Granger, the famous Muggleborn witch who stood by Harry Potter’s side as he murdered my friend. So, if you think I’m going to help you then you are ignorant beyond belief. Get out of my home. And, you can tell that spineless inn-keeper he will pay for telling you where I live.” 

“Is that all you have to say?” Lucius smiled but didn’t budget an inch. Constantine’s voice turned taut. “I am the one who taught Lord Voldemort everything he knew. I made him the powerful wizard he was. Do you think I can’t duel a has-been wizard and a little girl?” A coarse laugh came out of his throat soon followed by spasms of coughing and wheezing. He made his way back to the hearth and drank some amber liquid from a cup. 

“You’re dying,” Hermione said in a matter of fact voice. “You have Dragon’s Blood Disease. It comes from…well.. the obvious; drinking dragon’s blood which is a ridiculously foolish way to prolong your life.” 

Constantine turned towards her. “Are you a healer?” “No, I’m an attorney, but I know the symptoms of that disease when I see it. You’ll be lucky if you’re alive a few weeks from now.” 

"Why is it your business stupid witch?” he spat. 

“Don’t you dare speak to her that way.” Lucius strode towards the dark wizard with not an ounce of fear. You taught Voldemort everything he knew? Good for you. Look how that turned out. A young boy and his two best friends took him down. And, you know what? You’re going down too. But, I know this. All great wizards keep notes; notes of their work. So, somewhere in this filthy, smelly rat-hole of a hut you call home is that curse and its antidote. Because you would have to create an antidote to protect yourself. Do you want to die now, old man or do you want to salvage a bit of dignity and give Hermione and I the antidote to the curse you gave to Viktor Krum? What’s it going to be? Do you think you can duel me?"

Constatine's body flew up as if by some unseen force. His wand blew into hand. "Yes, I can!"

The two wizards stood opposite each other. They didn't bother with the pleasantries of bowing as Voldemort had once forced Harry to do, but rather pointed their wands at each other. Constantine looked to be the one who would strike first, but Lucius anticipated this and streams of red magic jetted out of his wand. Constantine side-stepped him, faster than he seemed he should be able to do for his advanced age. Green magic jetted out of his wand. The red and green streams met each other. Back and forth, they parried with each other. Each one tried to take advantage of the other. For over twenty minutes, the two wizards duelled, but soon it was obvious that Constantine was tiring. He tried to keep up with Lucius but couldn't. At one point, he conjured a giant, green eagle, but Lucius met that with a red phoenix. Lucius quickly advanced on Constantine, and the older, dark wizard fell to his knees. "You win," he croaked in a raspy voice. 

Constantine cowed before Lucius. He closed his eyes. “Voldemort and I, we were going to triumph together. But, he got greedy and then stupid. His own stupidity stopped him.” He fell down into the nearest chair. “I taught him everything, and he walked out of here, left me behind with nothing but this pitiful place I live in.” 

“Why didn’t you go after him?” Hermione asked. 

“He had an army. I’ve powerful, but not that powerful.” 

“The antidote to the curse.” Lucius kept a steady hand with his wand pointed at Constantine’s head. “Go to that desk over there. There is a notebook. Bring it to me.”

Hermione followed the wizard’s directions and soon Constantine came to a page with directions which made perfect sense. She and Lucius recognized the curse and wrote down the instructions to cure Ron. Lucius withdrew his wand. 

“I feel sorry for you, old man. You live in this village and terrorize these people, but you’re just a pathetic, dying, man who has nothing and nobody except that young girl. Who is she to you?” Lucius stood hands on hips, as he hovered over the elderly wizard slumped in his chair. 

“My great, great grand-daughter. She’s all I have.” 

“Thank you for the antidote,” Hermione said. Then, she bent down, took the wizard’s hands in her own and kissed him on the forehead. “I hope you find some peace before you die,” she said. 

Together, she and Lucius trudged back to the inn, ate a brief supper and flopped into bed. They held each other close and snuggled together under the covers. “I hope we always have each other,” Lucius whispered as he kissed her cheek. “You were brilliant today,” she whispered in return.

"I know," he smiled." 

Hermione laughed and nestled under his arm. "I love you too." 


	20. 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius and Hermione endure troubled times as Lucius has second thoughts about their relationship. Draco and Charlane head out to Diagon Alley and their romance finally blooms.

Chapter 20

Lucius woke up to see Hermione’s brown eyes fluttering. He smiled as gently pushed a few hairs from her forehead. He could feel the tug of desire, but didn’t want to wake her. He couldn’t help but reflect on all she had given to him these past few months. As he left the bed to look out and see a new blanket of snow on the ground, he realized it was almost Christmas. For the first time in years, he actually looked forward to the holiday, but on the other hand, he felt an uncertainty about his relationship with the young woman who’d captured his heart. He was still tainted goods in the British magical community and he had no intention of hurting Hermione by tainting her as well. Lucius knew that an important decision was pending.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come back to bed?” Her soft voice beckoned.

Every fiber in Lucius’ being longed to leap into the bed beside her and make passionate love. But, he couldn’t continue on with this and he knew it. “Hermione, I think it’s best if we don’t delay. We need to return to England immediately with this counter-curse for Ron. I’m going to get dressed, and pay our bill, so I’ll meet you downstairs.”

            Tears welled inside Hermione’s eyes. She felt as if the older wizard had punched her in the heart. He had just openly rejected her. Still she knew he was right and they had a job to do. This wasn’t some joyous honeymoon, although sometimes the weeks they’d spend together had felt almost like that. The intimate chats they’d shared. The times they walked and held hands. The nights they’d lain beside each other. She’d loved every moment. And, last night he’d said he loved her. Why did he say such a thing if he didn’t mean it? Hermione tumbled out of bed and hurriedly dressed for the journey home.

#

            Draco held Charlane’s shaking hand as they walked through the moving bricks and into Diagon Alley. As usual, it was bristling with activity. Witches, wizards and goblins moved about in a frenzy of pre-Christmas shopping. All of the shops were doing exceptional business. People jostled against each other as they carried multiple packages. Charlane’s eyes had turned into enormous round saucers of delight, confusion, excitement, and a tinge of fear. She grabbed onto Draco’s hand so hard he could feel her nails digging into his palm.

            “What do you think?” he said, hoping to lighten the mood.

            “It’s unbelievable,” she said, her voice almost like that of a child on their visit to a candy shop.

            “Over here we have Olivander’s Wand Shoppe. They’ve been around for centuries. Here we have Parvati’s Pumpkin Spice Shoppe. She and I went to school together. She opened this shop with everything to do with pumpkins and it’s a huge success. We’ll have to go there. Then, that huge white building down the road on the right-hand side is Gringott’s Bank. That’s where my bank account is. My dad’s too.”

            “You mean there is such a thing as magical money?” Charlane shook her head and wrapped her arms about Draco. “How fascinating!”

            “You haven’t seen fascinating yet. Come on!”

            Draco tugged on her arm and led her into the Quidditch Shoppe to give her a first glimpse of flying athletes in the magical world. He smiled to himself as he did. From the first time she’d rejected him to now, they had moved through a long, journey together. Draco suddenly felt a glimmer of hope that he and Charlane could actually be a long-term couple. The irony of him dating and wanting to be with a Muggle didn’t escape him, but it didn’t bother him either. Draco knew, deep in his heart that he was falling in love with Charlane. He only hoped she was feeling the same way.

#

            Lucius and Hermione strode through the hallways of St. Mungo’s eager to get the counter-curse to Healer Sebastian as quickly as possible. Fortunately, they found him in the Healer’s Lounge taking a much-needed lunch break.

            “We have the counter-curse, Healer Sebastian,” Lucius said with a broad smile, as he waved a crumpled document in the air. “Right here.”

            “Well done, Lucius. I knew you could do it. And good for you, Miss Granger. Let me take a look.” The elderly healer read the document and several times he nodded his head and almost hummed in agreement. “Oh yes, this makes perfect sense. I’ll make the potion immediately.”

            “Does this mean Ron can make a full recovery?” Hermione asked anxiously.

            “Well, that remains to be seen,” the healer said in a tentative voice. “The fact is, if we’d been able to give this to him immediately he would have had an excellent chance for recovery. But, it’s been several weeks since you left and he’s slipped back a little because we didn’t know what else to do for him. However, we can try to remain hopeful.”

            “That’s all?” Hermione offered her usual stern expression. “Lucius and I went all the way to Romania for this and…”

            “Hermione, please don’t be so rude.” Lucius sounded as if he was chiding a small child. “Healer Sebastian knows where we went and he’s doing the best he can under difficult circumstances. The fault here lies with that animal Viktor Krum who cursed Ron to begin with. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, it’s been a long and tiring few weeks. I’ll speak to you both later.” Lucius turned on his heels and left.

            Hermione stood in her place stunned at all the recent events. Less than 24 hours ago, Lucius Malfoy had said he loved her. Then, upon waking up it’s as if he regretted it. He’d been abrupt, condescending and now rude to her in front of Healer Sebastian. Her face reddened and she stammered her apology. “I…I…I’m so so sorry that I came off as…as…rude. I…uh…I…never meant to.”

            Fortunately, the healer didn’t seem to care. “Think nothing of it. But I’ve got to get to this potion.” With that he ran down the hallway as if he couldn’t get away from her quickly enough.

            Hermione practically fell against the wall behind her. Finally, the tears fell. What had she been thinking? Lucius had probably said what he did because it’s what he thought she wanted to hear. And she’d fallen for it too. She wiped her eyes and sniffed. Her heart felt as if it had been ripped from her chest and stomped on. In her grief, she didn’t even hear Harry coming down the hall.

            “Hey Hermione, I just heard the good news and…what the heck’s the matter?” He grabbed her in a fierce hug which caught her off guard.

            “Oh, Harry. I’m so glad to see you. Yes, we found Constantine and Lucius was able to scare him enough to get the counter-curse. Besides he’s dying and didn’t have much reason to deny us. Mind you, Lucius was really the one who did the work. I’m sure he’ll get some bloody Merlin’s Medal for it and…”

            “Did he do something to you? Cause if he did I’ll…”

            Hermione laughed nervously. “Don’t be silly. He was a perfect gentleman. He was on his absolute best behaviour. He risked his life to help Ron, Harry; he really did. I can’t fault him.” She once again leaned back against the wall for support.

            Harry beamed a smile. “Well, I’m glad to hear that because it seems as if you’re right and he’s absolutely a reformed man. Everyone’s talking about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a huge article in the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow.

            “Well, he deserves it. He really does.  But, I hope you don’t mind, I’m exhausted. I just want to go home, have a hot bath and get into bed.”

            “Hermione, it’s only 1 o’clock in the afternoon. Are you sure you’re ok? Maybe you should have one of the healers checked you out?”

            “No, Harry, don’t be silly. It was a long, physical trek and the apparating home had to be in stages which is always very tiring, as you know.” She punched him in the shoulder for emphasis.

            “All right, just wanted to be sure, because as you know, Ginny will have my head if she thought I let you go and you weren’t okay.”

            “I know.” She hugged him good-bye and they went their separate ways.

            Hermione padded slowly down the hall. She felt the tenderness, joy, and delight that had wrapped itself around her for several months now slip away bit by bit. She wondered now if she’d imagined she and Lucius had said they loved each other. After all, it had been a long day, with over four hours of trekking in mud and snow back and forth from the dark wizard’s hut, and all the drama inside with Constantine himself. Hermione’s brows knitted together. She closed her eyes and tried desperately to relive the moment, and couldn’t bring herself to deny the fact that the words had been said, but perhaps they were the words she wanted to hear. Fatigue could create strange situations and alter the ways people communicated with each other. She shook her head, trudged forwards to the floo and went home.

#

            Draco and Charlane stood on the stoop to her flat. Their arms wrapped about each other, they kissed passionately and deeply for the first time. Charlane wrapped her arms tightly about Draco’s neck and drew him closer to her, while Draco massaged her back and eventually held onto her backside as their tongues danced together. All thoughts drifted away and only the two of them existed for each other. Charlane smelled the heavy musk of Draco’s after-shave which wafted elements of oranges, amber, and spices. The overhead three quarter moon shone down on them but when they broke, their gazes were only for each other. Draco caressed her cheek with the back of his hand and kissed her gently again on the lips. To him, she tasted like strawberries when they were ripe, fresh, and juicy. He stared into her warm, green eyes, almost the shade of summer grass when it was lush and full. They pulled each other close again. His lips slipped over hers and her tongue brushed over his. They tasted each other as they moaned with pleasure.

            Charlane finally pulled back and smiled. “I had an amazing time, but I should go in. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

            Draco nodded. “Sure. I had an amazing time too. I’m glad I persisted.”

            “Me too,” Charlane said as she gave him one last glance then turned and walked inside.

            Draco wanted to kiss everyone in sight. The smile on his face was so broad his cheeks began to hurt. He rubbed his face with both hands and did a little jig on the sidewalk. “Ha ha,” he cheered. “This was the best day ever!”

#

            Lucius sat in his favourite chair with a glass of brandy in his hand which he’d poured over an hour ago, yet hadn’t taken a sip. He stared at the glass as if his gaze could destroy it and everything around him. The former Death Eater knew what it was like to face challenges. After all, he’d lived with that monster in his home for over a year. He’d endured torture, the Dark Lord, a difficult marriage, and even a horrible childhood, but nothing hurt him as much as turning his back on the young witch. Yet, Lucius knew he’d done the right thing. Every bone in his body told him he had to do it. His thoughts were interrupted by Draco who practically flew into the room and enveloped him in a hug.

            “Hey, hey, you’re back! That’s wonderful. How was your trip? I’ve had the most amazing time. My therapy is going really really well, and I finally got the nerve to go after Charlane again and guess what? She went out with me! Yup – we’re back together again, and I even took her to Diagon Alley. It was a spectacular time.”

            Lucius’ blue eyes turned fierce. “You what? You took a Muggle to Diagon Alley? What were you thinking?” He bolted out of his chair and strode over to Draco. Lucius loomed over his surprised son. “How could you do something so foolish? So inappropriate? You showed a Muggle our world! It’s illegal. What the hell were you thinking?” He threw the crystal glass and its amber liquid into the fire with a force that pulled Draco out of his chair.

            Father and son stood face to face. Lucius’ body shook with his anger, while Draco shook with sheer anxiety.

            “I…I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.’ Draco turned on his heels and tried to run out but Lucius went after him and caught him.

            “Oh Draco, I’m sorry,” Lucius cried. He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms about his son’s waist. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Please, please forgive me.”

            Draco slowly kneeled down to face his father. He took Lucius’ chin in his hands and smiled. “It’s okay. But, what’s going on? I heard through the grapevine that your trip was a huge success. Did something else happen?”

            Lucius stood up and took his son’s hands. Together they walked back into the salon and sat next to each other. Draco finally looked into his father’s face and saw a dreadful story. His eyes were red-rimmed from hours of tears, his hair was ragged and unkempt and he kept sighing without speaking.

            “The trip was a success,” Lucius said in a low voice when he finally spoke. “But Hermione and I kept getting closer and closer, and then I told her I loved her.” Lucius dropped his head into his hands and as sobs emerged once more his entire body shook. “How could I be so irresponsible?” he screamed.

            “Father, I don’t understand. Doesn’t she love you?”

            Finally, Lucius sat up. “Yes, she said she does. But I can’t make a life with her! I’m too old for her and I’m damaged goods!” Lucius stood up and began pacing back and forth, punching the air with his first. “I’ve been irresponsible. That beautiful young witch deserves better. She deserves much much better. I don’t deserve her. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t!” He collapsed on the floor and kept muttering to himself, although Draco couldn’t quite make out what his words.

            Draco took the initiative and sat down on the floor beside Lucius. “Isn’t that for her to decide?” He draped an arm about his father’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Let her make her own mind up.”

            Lucius pulled away and began pacing again. “No, Draco! That silly little witch thinks she’s in love with me. But, if I pull out now, she’ll hate me and that’s the way it should be.”

            “So, you want Hermione to hate you?”

            “What? No! Of course not. No, no, I don’t want her to hate me, but to hate me as a possible future something in her life.”

            “I see.”

            “Do you?” Lucius asked excitedly.

            Draco shook his head. “No. I don’t. If you love her, and she loves you, then you owe it to each other to try and work it out.

            “Draco, when I go into Diagon Alley, people throw things at me. They scream at me. I’m damaged goods in this society. I won’t take her down with me. I won’t do that to such a beautiful, passionate, lovely, loving, sexy, wonderful, kind, compassionate…”

            “Yeah, okay, I get it, she’s perfect. But, do you really want to hurt her?” Draco pleaded with Lucius to hear him.

            “To save her, yes, I would do that. She’ll get over me and then move on. It’s best that way.”

            “Okay, and you go back to being lonely and miserable?”

            “Exactly! No, that’s not what I meant.” Lucius poured himself another brandy and drank it in one gulp.

            “Hmmmmm. I don’t know what you mean father, and I’m not sure you do either. In any case, why don’t we go out for a nice dinner and you can tell me all about the dreaded Constantine. Or, would you prefer to sit here and drink yourself into a drunken stupor?”

            “Well, when you put it like that.” Lucius shrugged. “I’ll go wash up and change.”

            “Sounds good. I’ll wait down here.” Draco watched as his father walked up the stairs, his shoulders sagging, and his face crest-fallen. He knew exactly what he had to do. Draco pulled out his mobile which he had become quite accustomed to and dialed Harry’s number.

           


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius takes a chance and returns to Diagon Alley. Ron deals with big changes. Hermione and Lucius pine away.

Hermione’s boot heels click clicked on the salvaged beams which formed the floor of her office. She walked inside, shook the snow off her white wrap wool coat, pulled off the matching hat, and poured herself a steaming hot cup of coffee. Just as she had done for the past two weeks, she only nodded to her staff and associates, and shuffled into her office, closed the door and sat down at her desk. A plethora of files were layered there waiting for her approval. Since she had secured Lucius’ freedom, and returned home from their successful trip to Romania, everyone wanted to be represented by Hermione Granger.

Hermione sipped at the coffee in her hand and stared at the morning’s edition of the _Daily Prophet._ The headlines practically glared at her: _Lucius Malfoy to Receive Order of Merlin Second Class._ The story went on to herald the risks the former Death Eater took in travelling to Romania, battling the dreaded Constantine (which sounded far more elaborate and dangerous than the reality), and saving the life of war hero and Auror, Ron Weasley. It also chronicled how the Weasleys glowed about Lucius and his efforts, and that he was truly forgiven for any past transgressions (which included the dreadful opening of the Chamber of Secrets and events in the Department of Mysteries).  Lucius was also lauded for spending six years making amends anonymously so as not to call attention to himself. But now that this was all out in the open he deserved to be recognized.

            Hermione shook her head. The newspaper was still publishing its over the top stories with the lowest level of professionalism she’d ever witnessed. Still, she knew it didn’t matter. She hadn’t heard a word from Lucius since those humiliating moments in the hospital hallway, and she didn’t expect to. After all, she had won his case and that was what she’d been hired to do. The young witch had cried her tears over the older wizard. She had deeply loved him, and loved him still, but had to work on distancing herself from anything to do with Lucius Malfoy.

#

            Draco and Harry sat at the _Tea & Tome_.  Neither one had much to say and neither one didn’t have any idea what to do. Draco rested his head in his hand and Harry’s head rested on the table.

            Harry decided to break the stalemate. “Well, what now? Our first three plans obviously didn’t work. We couldn’t get your father or Hermione to fall for our ridiculous schemes. Do we give up?” Harry blew out air, sat up and gulped his coffee. Out of habit, he also checked his watched and shrieked; “Crikey, I gotta run! I was supposed to be back at St. Mungo’s to see Ron about fifteen minutes ago. See ya!” He waved his hand in the air. Draco waved back but said nothing.

            Draco sipped his coffee, folded one leg over another and sat by himself dejected and disappointed that he couldn’t bring his dad and Hermione back together. He knew, in his heart, his dad still loved her fiercely, but was too proud to return to her and ask for her forgiveness. After almost ten minutes of doing nothing, he dragged himself out of his chair and strolled down Diagon Alley. He smiled as he thought of that afternoon he’d brought Charlane here. Since that time, their relationship had turned very serious and he would have to face some important questions. _Could he marry a Muggle? What would their children be? Would they even be welcome in the magical world? What would her parents think?_ And the worst part of it all was his mother. Although Narcissa lived in Paris full-time, they were in touch on a regular basis. He knew he should’ve told her he had a woman in his life. On the other hand, Draco knew that while his father’s ideas and attitudes had changed, his mother was still a pureblood snob. With Christmas only one week away, she would be here for the holiday, and he would have to do something. His head shook back and forth because he knew that at this point he had no idea how to tell the doyenne of pureblood Paris society her only son was dating a Muggle.

#

            Lucius stood in the manor’s front hallway and gazed at the fully decorated Christmas tree. This year, he and Draco had decided on royal blue and gold as their theme colours. Ribbons, velvet bows, crystal balls, stars, gold peace doves, popcorn strings, blue and gold lights and a dancing fairy princess on top filled the tree with a radiant glow. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and suppressed a smile as he thought of all the silly antics Draco and Harry had been up to in order to encourage he and Hermione to reconcile. Lucius remained steadfast in his belief that Hermione was better off without him even though every ounce of his body passionately longed to hold her and make love to her until they were gasping for air. He felt an unfortunate tug in his trousers which reminded him just how alone he really was. Lucius consoled himself with thoughts of Christmas shopping and upcoming festivities. As he did, he realized his wallet was still upstairs. Back in his chambers once more, he checked if he had everything and prepared to head out to Diagon Alley until a familiar voice nagged at him.

            “Oh my, you look so down-hearted. What’s the matter now; not getting enough of you know what?” Louis’ portrait laughed.

            “Don’t you have anything better to do than nag me?” Lucius complained.

            “Frankly, no. What do you think I have to do? There are no Christmas parties for dead people, or wine and cheese parties for the dear departed, so what do you suggest?” Louis pouted.

            “Oh, well that’s a shame. At least you gain a lot of attention by annoying the living. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to leave. I have numerous errands to attend to.”

            Lucius turned to leave when he heard the painting’s familiar cackle. “Lucius, I do love you. You’re so entertaining. Let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we? You’re missing the delectable Miss Granger. And, why are you missing Miss Granger, because like the idiot you are you told her you loved her then took it back. Who does such a stupid thing?”

            Lucius stood, hands on his hips, his face red with fury. “I don’t see how my personal life is any of your damn business. And, what I do or do not do with the delectable Miss Granger is well…none of your damn business.”

            “Hmmmm. You seem to be repeating yourself. I think that might be the first sign of madness. Perhaps, you should see a healer,” Louis giggled.

            “I don’t need a healer,” Lucius fumed. “Leave me alone.” He stomped out and then walked back in. “And I am NOT mad.”

            “If you say so,” Louis answered calmly.

            Lucius stormed out and didn’t look back.

#

            Ron stood up and walked on his own for the first time in months. The entire Weasley clan cheered and whooped. “I feel so different. Not quite like myself, but pretty damn close.”

            Just then Harry bolted in the room, saw his friend walking under his own power and hugged him tightly. “So good to see you on your own again. Does this mean you’re fully healed?”

            Everyone turned towards Healer Sebastian who cleared his throat several times before speaking. “All right, there is good news and not so good news. The good news is the antidote which Lucius and Hermione brought back with them has worked very well. As well as can be expected really. The problem is, that with a curse that did so much damage, we needed that antidote much faster. Now, that’s no one’s fault. But, it didn’t get into Ron’s body quickly enough, so I think we’ve seen about as much recovery as we’re going to.” He folded his hands and felt his face flush.

            “What is that supposed to mean?” Molly screeched. “Now you see here, my son deserves the best and that’s what he’s going to get.” She shook her finger in the healer’s face but he didn’t budge.

            “He got the best,” Sebastian retorted. “There’s nothing more we can do.”

            “But, he walks so slowly,” Molly whined. “How can he be an Auror when he’s so slow?”

            “I’m sorry Mrs. Weasley, I’ve done my best, but Ron will not be strong enough to be an Auror.”

            “Well, when the hell will he be?” she screamed her own face turning crimson and her red hair thrashing about her face.”

            “Molly, he said he’s done his best,” Arthur intervened.

            “It’s not good enough,” she screamed. “It’s not good enough.”

            “I can do no more. I’m sorry. Now, I have other patients.” With that, Sebastian left.

            “Well, at least it’s great that Ron can walk on his own again,” Harry said hopefully.

            “Yes, yes, really great,” Molly said sarcastically. “It’s not you who’s injured is it, Harry? No, I don’t think so. You get to be an Auror, but poor Ron doesn’t.” She pushed everyone aside and bolted from the room.

            “Mom’s really disappointed,” Ron said as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “She doesn’t get that I’ve come a really long way.”

            “Are you disappointed, son?” Arthur sat down beside him.

            “Well, yeah, sure I’m disappointed. But, what can I do? It’s the way it is. I gotta accept it. I gotta move on. I can’t pretend I’m gonna be an Auror again when I’m not. That would be stupid. I’ve had loads of time to think about it and I just have to move on.” He leaned his head on his dad’s shoulder and shrugged.

            Harry stood against the opposite wall and stared at his adopted family. Ginny sat in a side chair wiping tears from her eyes. George stood stoically trying to pretend he was okay with everything by offering a big, fake smile. But, Percy’s face said it all. His eyes were sad and downcast, and he just kept blinking like a deer in headlights. Ron had recovered as much as he was going to. He would never be the same. He would never be an Auror.

            “Ron, you can come work in the family business, with Percy and me,” George offered in a bright voice.

            Ron crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, yeah, that sounds great. Go from being an Auror to a clerk. Big career move.”

            Harry motioned for everyone to clear out, then sat down in a chair by Ron’s bedside. “Ron, you’ll be going home soon, so even if the store isn’t your first choice, it’ll keep you busy in the meantime. Right?”

            Ron turned away.

            “Ron, please listen to me. I want to help.”

            “Oh yeah, the big war hero wants to help me out the poor cripple.”

            “Oi! You’re not a cripple, and who even uses that horrible word anymore? Besides, a moment ago you said you need to move on.” He turned Ron around to face him. “It’s a start. That’s all it is right now. Maybe in a little while you’ll find something else you want to do, like maybe something to do with Quidditch.”

            At the mention of his beloved sport Ron’s eyes brightened considerably. “You're right. But do you really think so? Like what?” He bolted up.

            “Well, maybe like a manager or a coach? They always need them in the league. You know that.”

            Ron nodded. “That sounds amazing actually. Thanks, Harry. Sorry about before. I guess I go up and down a bit.”

            Harry smiled in that genuinely kind way of his and sat with his friend. The two simply had no more to say to each other. With the passing years, Ron’s illness and his antics as an Auror, the two had become distant from each other almost without realizing it. Harry felt a cloud of sadness descend over him; one of those moments when a realization of times past would have little or nothing to do with one’s future.

#

            Lucius took in several deep breaths. Since the events in Romania his status in the magical community had greatly improved. Still, he had dreaded going into Diagon Alley for fear that a few people hadn’t received the news that he was no longer persona non grata. He stepped through the entrance from the Leaky Cauldron and immediately a broad smile covered his face. He loved Diagon Alley during the holidays. Shops were covered with decorative wreaths, dancing angels, flying doves, twinkling stars, blinking multi-coloured lights, and the hustle and bustle of last-minute shopping. The alley brimmed over with joy and businesses appreciated the huge numbers of people waiting in line to enter their stores. Lucius couldn’t find one store that didn’t have a waiting line. His heart gladdened with the desire to grab someone and simply hug them to say how wonderful it was for magical England to have recovered and once again be a transplendent community. Suddenly his ear caught his name being murmured among some of the crowds. Lucius felt that familiar nausea rise from his stomach into his throat. He had so hoped…

            “Lucius Malfoy?” A man in navy blue robes and a red and blue wizard’s hat tapped him on the shoulder.

            Lucius turned around, a dark expression on his face. “Yes,” he answered quietly.

            “Oh, let me shake your hand,” the man said. “What you did for that Weasley boy, well that was something else. And battling that dark wizard too. Good for you.”

            Lucius’ face transformed into one of a child in wonder. “Thank you. It was my pleasure.”

            Everyone in the group turned and smiled at him. He heard words like ‘brave’, ‘courageous’, ‘a hero’, ‘wonderful’, and others he couldn’t keep up with. He inclined his head in a formal gesture of thanks and moved on. But, his step changed. He walked more lightly on his feet. He took in every sight and sound, each and every laugh of a child, owls hooting from their cages, shop-keepers chattering to each other at their front doors, friends greeting each other, people pushing by one another, and not one person threw anything or yelled at him. Once again he belonged in the community. And it was all due to a beautiful young witch and…that reminded him again of Hermione Granger. His shoulders fell. He wanted to run to her. He wanted to hold her, brush his fingers across her hair, kiss her lightly then passionately on the lips and…he knew it would never happen again. Or would it? He was no longer reviled in the community. People didn’t hate him. He was accepted once again. But, then he had told her he didn’t love her. He had foolishly taken it back. What could he do? How could he win her back? He had to. Of that, he was absolutely certain. Every ounce of his being throbbed with desire for the young witch. He missed the sound of her voice, the flutter of her caramel eyes as she awoke and most of all, the feeling of being so deeply in love. His thoughts of the witch were interrupted by another voice.

            “Lucius, how are you doing?”

            “I’m fine, how are you?” He looked around to see Minerva McGonagall in her traditional black robes and hat. “You look wonderful Headmistress.”

            “Oh, I’m excellent, thank you, except for getting old, and my bones creak, my joints ache and I sometimes forget a spell or two, but I’m very good for the most part. I’m so proud of you Lucius. Your heroics remind me of you as a young man before your father took you to that monster.  But, the wonderful Lucius is back. I’m so happy.” With that she hugged him close. Lucius responded.

            “Thank you, Headmistress. It feels good to be “myself” again. I must admit.” He looked down at her and the two smiled at each other with the genuine affection of two friends. “Well, I should be going, I have a lot of shopping to do.”

            “I won’t keep you then. Happy Holidays. Oh and I hope we’ll see you at the Yule Ball next week? It will be a wonderful event and you absolutely must be there.”

            Lucius smiled to himself. He’d almost forgotten about the ball. “Of course I’ll be there.” And he thought to himself that a certain young witch would probably be there too.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A humorous chapter and a break from all the angst which will soon heat up again. Cissy returns to hear the truth about Draco's love life. Lucius wants Draco to stand up for himself. And, Hermione is in a snit until she meets an unexpected someone.

Chapter 22

            “Why won’t you talk to her?” Draco whined for what sounded like the hundredth time.

            “Because, I don’t want to,” Lucius replied infuriated with Draco’s constant nagging. He whirled around to face his son. “Draco, your mother will be here any minute, and you need to stand up to her. You care about Charlane, and you want to be with her, correct?”

            Draco nodded, his eyes wide as saucers.

            “Well, then, stand up for the two of you. This is your fight with your mother, not mine.”

            On that note, JoJo cracked right in front of them to announce Cissy’s arrival. “Ms. Black is here Master.”

            Lucius heaved a huge sigh and shook his head. “I guess we’ll just have to make the best of it. Please, tell her we’re coming down.”

            JoJo cracked away, and Lucius grabbed Draco by the shoulders. “For goodness sakes, she’s just your mother. You’ve faced worse.”

            “Then why won’t you tell her?”

            “Cause that woman terrifies me and if I deliver the bad news she’ll probably hex my balls off.”

            “What about mine?” Draco unconsciously covered himself out of an invisible fear.

            “Your balls are your problem. Now, let’s go.”

            The two men headed downstairs to find Cissy sitting in the salon already sipping a glass of sherry.  As usual, she was dressed impeccably in a navy blue and white Chanel jacket and skirt with matching white blouse and blue pumps. Exquisite gold earrings hung from her ears, matched by a gold necklace. “Cissy, it’s nice to see you,” Lucius said and he offered her a peck on the cheek.

            “You too,” she said in a cool but polite voice. “Oh Draco it’s wonderful to see you.”

            “It’s great to see you. Glad you could make it.”

            Mother and son hugged each other. Lucius poured some drinks and they all sat down together in a rather awkward silence.

            “What kinds of festivities do you have planned for the season, Lucius?”

            “Oh, I um don’t have all that much planned. I’ll be going to the Yule Ball on Christmas Eve and I have invited a wonderful group of guests for Christmas dinner.

            “Sounds lovely. Who’s invited to the dinner here then?”

            “Well, uh…there will be, Draco and myself of course, and um, I invited Professor McGonagall, the Weasley family, Harry Potter as he’s married to Ginny Weasley, you of course, and your sister, Andromeda.”

            Cissy nodded her head. She pursed her lips tight, stood up and paced in front of the fireplace. “I see. Nice that you did all of this without even consulting me. Not that I matter of course.” She threw her hands up in the air for dramatic effect.

            “Oh Cissy, for heavens sakes, we’ve been divorced for several years already. You should know, you’re the one who divorced me!” Lucius sounded like a petulant child, then drowned the rest of his sherry in one gulp. He quickly went to pour himself another.

            ‘You left me with no choice. And, it’s not as if you even came after me. Any decent man would have run after his wife and beg her to return home. But not you! Oh no, you accepted the divorce rather quickly if you remember.”

            “Oi! Enough! Is this entire evening going to be a trip down horror memory lane?” Draco seethed as he gently led his mother back to her chair. “These are the holidays they’re supposed to be joyful. Besides, isn’t there that saying, ‘the more the merrier’.

            “You’re right, of course,” Cissy agreed. “I knew we’d raised you right.”

            Draco patted her hand and all three breathed a sigh of relief when JoJo appeared in the room and announced dinner.

#

            Hermione sat on the chintz sofa in front of the tv stuffing her face with chocolate chip cookies, and a bottle of white wine. On the coffee table sat a small tub of chocolate fudge ice cream which had already been emptied. She watched _Sleepless in Seattle_ which she always did when her life seemed to be a total mess. Finally, she threw the bag of bookies onto the floor and drank the last of her wine. She laid down on the sofa and pulled a white crochet blanket her mother had made over her head. When her mobile rang, she briefly hoped it might be Lucius but knew damn well it wasn’t.

            “Hello,” she whispered.

            “Damn girl you sound awful,” Ginny blared into the phone. “What happened to you? Are you watching that Sleepless movie again?”

            “No,” Hermione lied. “Alright, yes. So what?”

            “So, you have got to get out of that house. Parvati, Katy and I are going to the Leaping Lizard Club. It’s only a few weeks old but everyone loves it. Now, get off that sofa and get your dancing shoes on because we’re going out tonight!” Ginny did her best announcer impression, which she always found hysterically funny.

            “I’m really not in the mood cause…” Hermione groaned.

            “I’m not listening! You’re going out and that’s that. We’ll be there in about 30 minutes. See ya.”

            Hermione stared at the phone and then jumped off the sofa. “All right Granger, enough is enough. Time to stop moping and get back into life. Get going!” She forced herself to run up the stairs, take a quick shower, pick out a dazzling mini-dress, some metallic heels, and ran down the stairs just in time to meet her friends. “Okay, let’s go!” They disappeared in a flash

#

            Draco, Lucius, and Cissy sat together in the small, informal dining room enjoying a delicious dinner prepared by JoJo. The only problem was the conversation. No one really wanted to say anything, and no one knew what to say in any case. Cissy finally laid down her cutlery.

            “What’s the matter with you two? You’re acting as if someone died. Why is it so morose in here?”

            “Morose? Wh…wh..what d…do you mean?” Lucius sputtered.

            “Oh for pity sakes!” she yelled. “Something is going on and I demand to know what it is. Someone speak up!”

            “I’m dating a Muggle!” Draco screamed. “I’m dating a Muggle,” he said in a much calmer voice. The colour that was left in his skin drained out. The fork shook so badly in his hand that Lucius had to take it away from him.

            The two Malfoy men simply stared at their plates waiting for the onslaught.

            “I beg your pardon?” Cissy said in that scary, calm voice of hers. The one that always preceded the storm. “Did you say you’re dating a Muggle girl?”

            “Yes, Mother.” Draco continued staring at his plate, his legs bouncing wildly under the table.

            “And you knew about this?” Cissy’s voice became eerily deep and obviously wanted Lucius to know her anger would be supreme.

            “Yes, Cissy. I knew. I encouraged it.”

            “I see.” She folded her napkin and placed it in the centre of her plate. “JoJo, we’re finished now.”

            The dishes disappeared.

            “So, my only son, who is the sole heir of the oldest and most noble house of Malfoy, the purest of the Pureblood houses is dating a Muggle girl. To top it off his father, the once proud Pureblood himself encouraged this. My, my, how times have changed. I leave this house and look what happens. It falls apart. Now, then, Draco you will cease and desist from seeing this girl. I will speak to my friends here and in Paris, in order to introduce you to some appropriate young witches of marriageable age. And, that will be the end of that.”

            She stood up to leave the room when Draco stood up to face her.

            “No, Mother, that won’t be that. I like Charlane very much. And she likes me. We’re very good together. I don’t want to…”

            Cissy moved in and closed Draco’s mouth with her finger and thumb. “No one’s asking you what you want. Did anyone ask me what I wanted when I married your father? No! Of course not. It was simply arranged and I was expected to fulfill my duty. And I did. Now, you will fulfill your duty or there will be hell to pay in this house. Am I clear?” Cissy’s voice rose about an octave on the last few words, and Draco could swear some of the crystal shook.

            He cringed before his powerful mother and then looked to his father for support. Lucius knew it was time.

            “Cissy, we need to let Draco make his own decisions in this matter.” He pushed Draco out of the way and stood face to face with his ex-wife, a formidable woman and witch.

            “I see. Is that your final answer?”

            “I’m afraid so. Draco went through a lot during the war. He suffered terribly and now it’s time for him to have fun. I want him to enjoy life.”

            “I’m sure you do. Just as you enjoyed that romp in Romania with a certain young Muggleborn. It was all over the magical news, Lucius. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” She stabbed him in the shoulder with her well-manicured nails.

            “No. But, what does it matter? We’re divorced, Cissy, and we have been for several years. You walked out on me, remember?”

            “So, now I’m being punished?”

            “No! Absolutely not. But, this is Draco’s life and it’s his decision to make.”

            “Fine. Tell me, Draco, what does this young girl do?”

            “Well, presently, she’s working in a bookshop, but next year she plans to attend classes at the London School of Economics. It’s a very prestigious Muggle university.” He smiled broadly in the hopes that this somehow made everything okay.”

            “How wonderful. You’re dating a shop girl. My son, the sole heir of the proud Malfoy line is dating a shop girl. Well, why didn’t you say so from the very beginning? That surely would have made everything alright. Wouldn’t it, Lucius?”

            “Yes?” Lucius shrugged his shoulders, poured himself some wine and drank it in one gulp.  

            “After the holidays I can head back to Paris with my head held high, knowing that my son is dating a shop girl. I’ll be the envy of every witch in Paris society. I’ll just say good-night.” With that, she padded out the door as if nothing had happened.

            Draco slumped into a chair next to his father. “That didn’t go well.”

            “You think?”

            Draco dropped his head onto the table. “What am I supposed to do?”

            “Damned if I know,” Lucius said. “My own life is rather a mess and I don’t see how I can give you very good advice, son. You’re on your own.”

            “Thanks a lot.”

            “Well, if it’s any consolation, she’s only here for a week.”

            Draco sat up. “She can do a lot of damage in one week.”

            “Yes, she can. So, we have to find a way to sell this Charlane girl to her; find something that will make her so damn attractive that your mother will plan the wedding herself.”

            “Who’s getting married?”

            “Oh, didn’t you know? You are. Good-night son.”

            “Oh shit,” Draco whispered. “I’m getting married. I haven’t asked anyone to marry me but I’m still getting married. My mother hates the woman I’m getting married to, and she doesn’t even know her. Oh yeah- life is very good.” Draco walked to the bar and poured himself a large glass of wine and downed it. He slumped down to the floor. “How grand it is to be a Malfoy,” he said to no one.

#

            The Leaping Lizards Club was another relatively new addition to the exciting night-life in Diagon Alley. Owned by Seamus Finnigan and a few of his cousins, the club was decorated in neon green and pink. Lizards of various shapes and sizes floated on the walls and ceilings.  A modern Muggle rock band played on the stage and a generous dance floor proved to be extremely popular. Young witches and wizards drank concoctions of fine wines, mixed drinks and ate finger-foods such as wings, pizza and crudites. Seamus knew how to keep people happy, and every night at midnight he set off a fireworks/light show which delighted his patrons. Parvati, Katy, Ginny, and Hermione were recognized immediately and Seamus himself directed them into the club.

            “Now ladies, here is one of my best tables. Drinks are on the house and have yourselves a fantastic time.” Before they could protest, he bounced off to kiss a few attractive young witches on their cheeks for some good PR.

            “This is fabulous,” Parvati said as she admired the décor. “Look at all these young wizards in here. There are some real studs here tonight. Not for you of course dear Mrs. Potter.”

            “Ha ha. I can still look. That’s not illegal.”

            Four handsome young wizards approached their table and escorted them onto the dance floor. Before she could protest, Hermione found herself dancing with an extraordinarily good dancer who introduced himself as ‘Rafa’, a Spanish wizard from Madrid. She couldn’t help but think he was a wonderful distraction with dark curly hair, expressive green eyes, and a muscular, fit body to hold on to. Within a few minutes, Hermione completely forgot about her despair over Lucius and held on to Rafa for some adventurous dancing moves. After at least 30 minutes on the dance floor, he escorted her back to her seat and ordered drinks.

            “So, you are Hermione, yes?” he asked in a sultry voice.

            “Yes, that’s right. Hermione Granger.”

            “Aha! I am Rafa Gomez, and I’m so very pleased to get to know you.”

            “Me too, Rafa.”

            They sipped their drinks and sat together in each other’s company for the next several hours, when Hermione found herself saying the unthinkable. “You know, Rafa, I wouldn’t ordinarily ask this of someone I just met, but I’m wondering if you would be interested in attending the Yule Ball with me? It’s in about a week’s time. I know that’s fast…”

            Rafa chimed in quickly. He kissed her hand, then her cheeks. “I would be honoured.”

            Hermione felt almost giddy, quite like when Viktor Krum asked her to the Yule Ball in third year. Earlier that night she’d felt hopeless about the upcoming party, but now she would attend with a handsome young, Spanish wizard. _Take that, Lucius Malfoy! I don’t need you and I don’t want you! I have a new man in my life and I’m going to enjoy every moment of it._

 

 


End file.
